Totally a plane inconvenience much?
by DisclosedBarrel
Summary: Wesker's plan to infect the world with Uroboros failed recently, and in an act of revenge, he hunted down Chris Redfield and his son Zaac Wesker. Zaac held nothing back to end his father once and for all. Nine years later in 2018, three young girls from WOOHP have their own problems. Turbulence, assassination and isolation. Like totally in the wrong place at the wrong time...
1. Staged

Somewhere near Mount Everest, passing over Nepal. Tuesday, 10th March. 11:13 pm.

It was a Tuesday in 2009. The respected B.S.A.A. Operative Chris Redfield was flying in the airspace nearing Mount Everest with trusted copilot Chief Zachariah Wesker of the L.A.P.D. They were flying the friendly skies in a B.S.A.A. C-130 Hercules, a large four-rotor plane used for transportation.

The two men recently finished a mission based in Africa, after some word of weapon smuggling from an infamous terrorist. Bio Organic Weapons were found to be infected with a strain of plaga that corrupted the townspeople and stirred up quite a mess the B.S.A.A. had to clean up. They weren't alone, Zaac offered his help from the L.A.P.D.'s very own team, a spiritual successor to the R.P.D.'s original. It was Zaac's first major mission since the kidnapping of President Graham's daughter, Ashley in 2004.

While the mission was found to be orchestrated by the nefarious plotting of Albert Wesker to achieve Godhood, by using an unstable mutagen to infect billions, he was eventually defeated by Chris. His allies: Sheva Alomar, Jill Valentine and Zachariah Wesker were all there for the madman's downfall.

After Wesker's bomber failed to reach the altitude to deliver the infectious payload, he had the upper hand and the mind to kill his pursuers. What they thought was a final showdown, Wesker walked away and left with his estranged rival Dorian Savage and soon disappeared from the rocky mountains outside Africa.

Even though Wesker was an heir to Umbrella; he cared little for the corporation as he had to share the director's seat with three others – one being his own sister. They were to share the assistant and advisor Derek C. Simmons and they fought to take the throne. Wesker only desired the seat to milk the resources of the entire company, to some extent, it was working out for his research on Uroboros.

The involvement of Tricell was duly noted, the problem was the fact no one knew what their true intentions were to ally themselves with Wesker's ambition. There were deeper intentions hidden behind those sunglasses. Chris was gutted he wasn't able to kill him there and then but Dorian Savage's presence always has mixed effects unaccounted for. He showed up at the worst time to aid Wesker's escape.

All that mess was finally handled by the B.S.A.A. and other groups of enforcement. The death toll was high for Africa, but it was better than the deaths of billions. Umbrella was getting more and more confident. Zaac already had a bone to pick with them over the years leading to 2009; now things seem to be escalating quicker and in bursts.

Apart from the two of them, they were alone. There wasn't anything in the cargo hold apart from the usual parachutes and the few fold-out chairs. It was built for transportation, but today it was just a vehicle that needed to be brought back to base.

Being in the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance, Chris needed the aircraft to secure a more natural way to transport troops or supplies, Zaac volunteered to be his copilot as it was a long trip to be alone for. The estimated travel time was three hours at the least. It was already nearing midnight, the storms above Everest was diabolical with the dark skies. Then again, the soft hum and steady nature of the flight was a pleasure he shared with Chris, even if he was an amateur in comparison.

Mount Everest was in sight, and the heavy weather bombarded the plane with snow and ice. Just some typical turbulence the veterans shouldn't worry about. Communication to headquarters was out because of the signal's weak strength, but they still weren't concerned. Everything was optimal.

Chris and Zaac had reason to believe that Umbrella's CEO Victor Romanov was hiding out in a safehouse somewhere in Russia. Before he was killed, Oswell Spencer felt the integrity to inform Zaac that there four "New Age Founders" planning to succeed him, four more people he had to put down for good.

Spencer was the hardest man to track down, and the crusade to locate his associates would prove to be easier. To take down the company, the new founders, their general, CEO and advisor all had to be killed.

Romanov, Simmons, Nardovino, Marcus, Savage and the Wesker Children. All must die.

Albert Wesker was first on the list, and Zaac had an ace up his sleeve, but things had to be executed with a certain amount of finesse before he could weed out the bigger fish...

"I hate this weather," Zaac mumbled.

Chris flicked an overhead switch and adjusted his headset. "We won't be out long; we're not too far off B.S.A.A. headquarters."

"Haven't been home for weeks now." Zaac's eye twitched, and he looked far out the window of the cockpit. The blizzard was worsening. "I wished it would snow like this for years, but _this_ is ridiculous."

"I hate the cold."

Zaac stared at Chris. "The cold brings people together." His focus drifted back to the skies. "Nights like this reminds me when I took the boss out for a coffee on that cold morning. I think it was a Saturday."

"Who?"

"The ex-police chief, before she was… You know… killed."

Chris pouted his lip. "I'm sorry. Rachel was the best chief I ever met."

"Apart from me." Zaac sighed. "If only we got there sooner… I'll sure miss her though." He focused back on the flight, with a firm hold of the tough controls. "Long trips sure bore me. Do they bore you?"

"A bit," Chris admitted quietly. "I like the sound and feel of jets personally. Transport planes don't interest me."

Zaac glowered. "Big planes and cruisers bother me."

"Why?"

A red alarm lit up the cockpit as a siren blared loudly. A warning symbol crocked up on the controls, looked like a door. "The rear hatch is open!" Zaac roared. He desperately pressed a button that should close it, but it wasn't working. Had to be done manually. "Fuck manual!"

"How?!"

Zaac unstrapped himself from his chair and ripped his helmet off. "Gotta close it, or we'll lose altitude!" The blaring alarm abruptly ceased. Zaac stood at the door and checked the icon next to the button he pressed earlier, the icon for the cargo door wasn't lit up. "Did you do that?"

"No..." The alarm came back on, and the warning icon started flashing.

"Must be a door malfunction."

Quickly shuffling past an old item box, Zaac slid through the sliding door into the cargo hold and practically felt the level of the plane slipping a tiny bit as he was off balance. Only in the slightest. The door closed behind him. The hatch in the very back was wide open and blasting cold air at him like a politician; it was pitch black outside apart from the bit of snow that gets by. Some snow was getting inside, and Zaac felt the pull.

Zaac took a few steps forward and suddenly felt something hit him hard in his lower back, near superhuman force. He was caught off guard and tumbled across the floor. The speed he was going made it hard for him to get a grip on the icy floor. Just after panicking, Zaac kept himself at arm's length away from the open air. He breathed, and he was dragged backwards by his right foot, his hands scratched up the ice. Zaac whipped his body around to see the attacker.

"Why am I not surprised to see _you_?" he said, unsurprised, "Of all the places, Wesker…"

Zaac's father raised his chin and looked down to Zaac. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I break your concentration?" Wesker mocked with his shady voice.

"Not as much as this'll do!" Zaac whipped out his magnum revolver and took aim for Wesker, but he anticipated his quick draw and lifted him up quickly, throwing him head over heels. He landed on his belly and immediately began to slip from the suction. He had seconds to get a good grip on the icy floor but panicked between that and his revolver.

Zaac's Red Hare magnum launched itself out the cargo room and was gone from sight with Zaac trying to reach out for it that failed. He had his left hand on the very edge of the floor with Wesker stepping over to him; he stood to enjoy his struggle to keep himself from falling out the plane.

"Nothing quite like a bit of fresh air, don't you think, Zaac? You look like you might fall. Tell me, have you ever fell from a building before?" Zaac gritted his teeth and raised his other hand to join his left one. "Falling from a moving plane is _much_ worse. I can't imagine the mess you'll leave behind when you plummet into the ground."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Wesker!" Zaac growled. It did feel like he was holding onto the ledge of a building, wind brushing through his hair and armour. He strained his back muscles and pulled his body into the cargo room and threw himself at Wesker.

Wesker's left hand slid around Zaac's left arm, and he used his right to roll Zaac over his shoulder and dropped him to the floor. Thudding like a sack of potatoes, Wesker stomped on Zaac's head and pulled his right arm. Zaac began to cry under his mighty boot. The side of his head cracked against the floor.

Zaac ripped his arm free and rolled back up to his feet to charge at Wesker with his right shoulder, crunching into the old man's chest. Wesker staggered back, and Zaac pulled out his other handgun from his right hip and took aim. It was his family Colt in its nickel-plated glory.

Glowering with his cat-like eyes, Wesker reached out for Zaac's arm to raise it over his head. He twisted his body and curved Zaac heel over head and back to the ground, disarmed him of the weapon to aim at his face with Zaac shaken and not stirred.

Zaac growled. "Let me guess… you're here to kill Chris?"

Wesker smiled and brushed his chest. "Aww, you remembered." He had a woven leather trench coat and what Zaac thinks a kevlar vest and thickened combat trousers. All black to complement his sunglasses and shady nature.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you would be the most persistent stalker I ever met."

"It's your own fault for getting in my way."

Zaac huffed. "If it's not me it would be someone else."

"Really? Why would _they_ send in your place?"

"Anyone who's strong enough to do what's right and stare pure evil in the face."

"Pure evil? Moi?" Wesker sneered.

"You tried killing your own sons more than once-"

"I couldn't kill you for free, Zaac, there's nothing substantial to gain by killing you for table scraps."

"Then I'm not worth the bullets? How rude…"

"On the other hand, you are standing in my way… You do understand I take a huge offence to that."

"Then why haven't you pulled the trigger?" Zaac smirked.

Wesker shrugged. "Partly because my father's handgun feels good to be back in my hand, then again, just for you to digest a message. If you continue to get in my way, Zaac, I _will_ hurt you really, _really_ bad, just to teach you a lesson. However, when it comes to Chris my demands are simple: step aside or die."

"That handgun isn't even loaded."

"What?"

Zaac held no emotion even in spite of being held at gunpoint, almost bored of what's to come. The Colt was his secondary and would you always need to keep them loaded? Wesker wasn't sure, then never underestimated each other's wit. Wesker folded first and quickly glanced at his gun.

Wesker's legs were swept from underneath him, and he landed on his left shoulder, Zaac made his move to disarm him. A round was fired that ringed past his head, and Wesker bent his leg to kick Zaac, crunching into his abdomen and pushing him back. After a quick flourish, whipping around his legs, Wesker practically flew back to his feet and took aim.

Neither of them was left-handed, Zaac grabbed Wesker's hand to keep him from firing another round and swung his right elbow into the side of his cheek and back again that crunched into his face. Wesker's head rolled back, and his grip faltered a tiny bit, but he ripped his hand from his son's and backhanded his face with the Colt. Zaac yelled out and took another pistol whip to his forehead. A fierce straight kick flattened Zaac out on his back, nearing the rear hatch that started sucking him to the outside.

Zaac scrambled to his feet and built up speed to throw a right hook at Wesker that he effortlessly ducked under and twisted his body to the right to avoid his left uppercut. He saw Zaac was going a right jab and before he moved, Wesker dropped his gun into his right hand to grab Zaac's right jab. He applied crushing pressure on Zaac's fist, causing him to falter enough for Wesker to spin him around and launching him against the wall behind the cockpit with a slight strain.

Zaac cried out as he impacted the wall and scrunched onto the floor. Wesker had the upper hand with his Colt taking aim for the young man. "Sloppy display," Wesker smiled, "I taught you better than that." The cockpit door slid open.

"What the hell is going on back here?!" Chris yelled. He didn't notice Zaac on the ground to his right, Chris' eyes passed over Wesker and took immediate action as his aim directed to him. Chris twisted back into the cockpit and narrowly avoided a shot that struck a stray piece of electronics.

Wesker focused on his nemesis more than his son, so Zaac got on his feet quickly to wrap his arms around Wesker's waist to take down. Wesker snarled while he and Zaac tumbled across the floor with him being thrown over Zaac's shoulder nearer to the rear hatch; he landed on his feet like a cat with plenty of range to shoot back at Chris who was taking a stance behind Zaac. He had his Beretta handgun.

Zaac reached over his back and unsheathed a sword that glimmered in the limited light; Sally was a little over four feet in length with a razor-sharp double-sided edge. He raised the hilt to his head level and pointed the blade down, keeping a firm footing. "You want Chris; you're gonna have to go through me first!"

"You shouldn't play with swords… you might lose _more_ than an eye."

"Try me!"

Wesker fired at Zaac, and the bullet was blocked by Sally, it broke on impact as he fired another two more quickly after. Zaac deflected the last two shots as he ran at Wesker to twist a swing that intended for a quick decapitation. Though it was almost impossible to see along with some shots by Chris, Wesker had quicker reactions to dodge and promptly ducked to step away to Zaac's left.

His neck snapped to Wesker, and Zaac thrust Sally right at him before he could reach for his concealed handgun. Wesker wasn't there as he literally dropped his back to the floor to kick out Zaac's right shin that was too far forward with that thrust. As Zaac was about to fall, Wesker kicked his underbelly with the opposite boot and just like that Zaac was off the ground completely and in the air. He wouldn't let him relish that for long, Wesker twisted his body to kick Zaac again.

The force of Wesker's kick to the side launched Zaac at Chris, his back knocked Chris down and sent Zaac at the far end of the cargo room. Sally dropped from his hands. Wesker got back on his feet from the leftover momentum with Zaac already rushing past Chris, Sally flew into his right hand, and he swung.

Sally struck into the ground since Wesker anticipated his sloppy nature and made the careful decision to step to his right, but Zaac went too far forward. Wesker moved closer to Chris, when he passed Zaac he kicked his rear end without a single glance. Zaac flew towards the rear hatch and struck the left side with his shoulder ramming it before tumbling across the ground on the rebound and being sucked out. Luckily, he caught the hatch with his right hand, Sally was out of his reach, but he still had a combat knife sheathed on his chest.

Zaac pulled himself up and had to do something since Wesker was throwing jabs and punches at Chris; he couldn't land a shot at his inhumane speed and dexterity. Chris was raised off his feet by Wesker and struggled for air in his grasp; he felt Wesker's grip tightening. Zaac heard Chris' wheezing and gasping and quickly reached for his knife to break it up. It was life or death.

A loud roar escaped Wesker's snarling voice when the serrated knife dug into his right tricep. Wesker was always the type to turn his back to his sons. Chris fell to the ground and gasped for air by the mouthfuls and Wesker had a nastier red glare from his feral eyes when he turned around.

Firstly, Wesker grabbed Chris' collar and threw him back into the cockpit, he crashed into an overhead cabinet and slid off a control panel – still gasping for air. He was hardly a threat now, but Zaac was rubbing him the wrong way. The door was forcibly closed behind him, and Wesker ripped the knife from his arm and chucked it away.

"You're starting to get on my nerves, boy," Wesker snarled. Zaac almost had a grin, since he bought Chris some time to recuperate. Wesker picked up Sally and threw it out of the moving plane. After some faint whistling, it was gone. Zaac lost his grin and shook his head with grief. That sword was legendary.

With a small outburst, Wesker caving the sliding door with a single shoulder ram, denting it around the middle where the valve was. He punched out the door's circuitry and effectively kept it from opening with the huge dent also contributing to the fault. "I'll deal with you later, Chris!" he hissed. Zaac saw him coming closer to him, at this point he had little strength to pull himself up with the fast air dragging at his legs. Wesker stepped to the manual switch to close the rear hatch on his far left. With a grin as heinous as his very own, he pulled it.

The hatch door strained to lift with Zaac's weight pressing down on it, but it still tried to close slowly. Wesker watched Zaac decide to let go or lose a limb or two; he went for the secret option. His magnum, Red Hare.

Just like that, Zaac had his magnum and fired at Wesker when he least expected it.

Large rounds thundered through the air. The door was nearing the top, and his head was almost touching the ceiling, but he made all three shots count. With his right arm holding him still, Zaac fired a round through Wesker's left shoulder that made him curse loudly.

The second round hit his other shoulder that spun him around, and while he was reeling the third shot struck his hip. All rounds went through him like paper. Wesker's arm reached out with his own handgun equipped and fired back with wicked accuracy at the man that was nearly about to lose his right arm.

Wesker's Samurai Edge had enough damage to shoot the magnum from his son's hand and enough speed to mow down his crutch; his other arm that held him still. Zaac had no armour on apart from his hand and elbow, eventually enough meat and bone was plastered with gunfire that forced Zaac to let go as the door sealed shut regrettably.

It was silent inside the cargo room. Zaac was most likely falling to his death; Mount Everest will kill him. It was hard to see, but Wesker actively avoided confronting Zaac in case he had to kill him for reasons unknown. At least this way he never indeed killed him. The mountain did.

 _Thud._ Something heavy caved in the roof above Wesker's head as if something just latched itself on. He stopped moving to hear better, and as he did something instantly tore and pulled apart the hull from the outside. Snow and a freezing blast of air whooshed in, Zaac dropped in covered head to toe in frost.

Zaac shivered while he shook his shoulders dry. "Didn't care for that cold shoulder you gave us, Wesker."

Wesker confronted Zaac and raised his handgun's sights. The wounds he endured have since healed up, to Wesker's expense. He packed powerful slugs though… "Stand aside."

"I'm taking a huge risk showing up unarmed." Wesker assumed whatever Zaac has to say would be funny, so naturally, he smiled and gave him his undivided attention. Zachariah understands the problem you have with this Chris, Wesker, but as a neutral party I must ask you lay down your arms and surrender."

"Must you talk in the third person?"

"You mistake me for Zachariah, Mr Wesker. I'm afraid we've never met in _person_." Instead of golden eyes, only one was the same as before, whereas Zaac's right eye was solid crimson...

"Doesn't matter _who_ you think you are. You're wasting your breath. Why do you think I care about anyone but myself?"

"You hold back when you face Zachariah and his brothers, you are capable of killing them without any effort if you so choose, yet they still live. Wesker… this is _our_ final plea to you. Stand down and let your son arrest you; he will judge you fairly-"

He'd sooner execute me."

"Perhaps, but it's the best we can offer. It's either that… or..." Zaac paused to digest some words to use. " _I'll_ terminate you… plain and simple. I take no pleasure taking lives but it's for a good cause if you should refuse."

"This song and dance is getting old now, Zaac."

Zaac shook his head. "Your soul is _not_ worth saving." He moved his hand to reach into his back pocket.

Wesker thought Zaac was going for another weapon and shot at Zaac several times. A small volley of 9mm rounds scratched his chest plates and drew some blood in his armour's unprotected areas. Wesker hit his arms and his neck once, he didn't see Zaac snap his hand in the air.

Then the air rippled, and Wesker was shot across the room and crashed into the rear door. He rolled all the way down and took some time getting his posture back. Zaac went to the door to the cockpit and took a firm hold of anything he could get his hands on.

The valve was broken, and the door was the feeble type of metal, so he dug his fingers into the door and ripped it off the hinges. Chris looked better than he did a few minutes ago; he had a parachute rucksack on his back. They were happy to see each other.

"Did you… Did you just rip the door off?"

Zaac shrugged. "Zachariah didn't need his insurance premium anyway. Got a parachute?"

Chris tugged the backpack's strap. "When you say jump, I'll jump."

Wesker didn't have his sunglasses on and stood with his maniacal glare. He was getting frustrated. "Might be sooner than expected..." Zaac groaned and stood between Chris and Wesker.

"Step aside," Wesker snarled.

"So you kill this good man while we watch? Not happening. This is how it's going to go. This human walks away while we settle things once and for all. Whoever dies… dies. No more holding back."

Wesker sighed. "Still third person..."

Zaac glowered at Wesker and breathed slowly. "You think we're surprised you're here? No…" Wesker let Zaac take a small device from his rear pouch. It had a single button and a long one on the grip. "Zachariah staged the whole thing. The plane, Chris and the C-4 he planted on the plane's hull outside."

Chris' eyes dared to Zaac; he gnashed his teeth. "You used me as bait?"

"If it's any consolation, Zachariah means it in the nicest possible way."

"You're bluffing."

"All I need to do is hold this button, and everything in this plane is destroyed."

Wesker smiled. "Why, Zaac, how delightfully treacherous of you. Never thought you had it in you. Putting your life in the name of good and right. A fool's path."

"It's our will; we do what we must."

"I must admit you got me pretty good, but I won't let Chris escape when I'm so close to ending it all."

Zaac scoffed. "Is killing this particular human really worth your life, Wesker?"

Wesker brushed off what appeared to be dirt of his coat's collar. He was smug. "I have nothing to lose and everything to gain, and I'm not going to ignore that chance."

Zaac shook his head wistfully. "It's pointless then..." He reached out, and something dark and horrible lingered around his fingertips.

A stream of black shadows shot from Zaac's palm and slammed into Wesker, looping tendrils around his torso and restraining his weapon to his side. He twisted his body and pulled back as hard as he could to remove Wesker from the rear hatch and pressed him against the wall behind him and Chris. Wesker was flattened with his body stretched over the wall above a large crate, with shadows looping around his limbs.

Zaac was straining something awful, when he turned his head to Chris sweat trickled down his brows and cheeks. "I don't know how long I can restrain him," he said calmly, "Time for you to leave, Mr Chris."

"I'm not leaving you."

"I'm the only one that can handle him. Zachariah wants you to go, now!"

Chris shook his head and saw the stress in Zaac's eyes; he was struggling to keep his father in line. He was too powerful, and whatever he was doing it was faltering quickly, Wesker was resisting Zaac's pressure. Chris folded. "If you so wish," he sighed. He ran to the rear hatch and opened the door, looking back one more time, finding it weird he was still referring himself in the third person.

"Don't worry about Zachariah, Chris." Zaac smiled and gave Chris a thumbs up.

"I wasn't; I was just…" The sound of the alarm made Chris feel uneasy. Gave him a strange feeling that this would be the last time they see each other. Someone is going to die, but Chris couldn't think that way. Zaac was hard to put down. "Don't die on me."

"Never planned on it..."

Chris nodded, his body was almost freezing over form the cold air sucking at him. Ruffled his hair and stole his breath. When he was at the peak of his confidence he stepped off the platform, leaving the cargo room. The door slowly closed after a few seconds, and Chris was already soaring through the air.

When Zaac checked on Wesker a live round brushed past his neck, then a second bullet struck the other side of his neck. Zaac staggered and cut off the shadows he used to restrain his father. Wesker rolled off the crate to regain his footing and kept on firing at Zaac.

Several bullets landed on their mark, striking the weaker parts of his blue combat armour. The lower stomach and neck were lightly armoured whereas his triceps and biceps were bare. Zaac registered the muzzle flash from the direction of Wesker before he felt the impacts to his belly. Not all shots were at centre mass; he felt a sharp pain on his left arm that turned him away. A good hit for his face sent Zaac sprawling.

He should be dead. Zaac felt around his left eyebrow, and there was a suckling bloody hole. Wesker reloaded his gun, and Zaac swung his arm out and sent three sharp black objects that had a razor-sharp edge, they were like small shadow knives.

Two shadow knives struck each of Wesker's shoulders with the third passing straight through his chest; it was so quick and sharp that there was only little sharp pain. Wesker dropped his handgun and collapsed a bit; he leant on the wooden crate behind him.

Zaac rushed at Wesker with a straight punch, but Wesker was prepared to counter him and used his left arm to swat his fist away. He threw an uppercut to Zaac's chin that rocked his head back, before he could grasp the pain Wesker grabbed his collar and swung him into the crate.

Zaac didn't stop until his head hit the wall in the back, he destroyed the crate's integrity as his head, neck and shoulder rammed straight through. His neck crunched something awful. He moaned loudly under the scattered planks of wood. Wesker clutched his belt and threw him to the back of the room. He laid out on his back, holding his bruised forehead.

Wesker looked around for a weapon to use and had to settle for a crude iron pipe that sat next to the destroyed crate. Around two inches in diameter and a meter in length, He picked up Zaac by his neck and threw him to the wall on his left. It sounded like he was going to say thank you, but his voice was strangled.

The pipe was swung at Zaac's left cheek and again on the receiving end that collided with his nose and teeth. Zaac cried out but still kept his balance by holding onto the wall, then Wesker brought the pipe to the back of his head. The end was like a club that cracked into his head. The pipe broke…

Zaac fell on his hands and knees. Wesker discarded his weapon and threw Zaac again at the other wall opposite. He hit it, face first and slid back onto the floor. His sight was blurring. He saw colourful shapes and stars floating around the rim of his eyesight. Felt nice lying down though…

A firm grip formed around Zaac's collar and just like that he was lifted off his feet out of the blue and brought back to Wesker's ugly mug. He wasn't smiling, and his cat-like eyes were flaring up, like a predator to the prey. The cold in his eyes reminisced Zaac on the fact that this is what he wanted, to finally finish the fight once and for all.

To do his duty, he had to set aside Zaac's parental instincts and put this Wesker to rest and out of everyone's misery. Despite his Godlike power, he never stood a chance against Wesker's determination and little regard for others. Those were his strengths that countered Zaac's weaknesses. Then it hit him…

Wesker rammed his hand through Zaac's chest, right between his armour plates. The kevlar, chain mail and blast pockets hardly softened the thrust as Wesker's hand finally ended on the other side of his back. Zaac's voice was hoarse and sputtered just short of gasping, he felt his heart explode, his eyes bulged, and blood crawled back up his throat.

Wesker smiled, his gloved hand and tricep was coated in Zaac's blood. As he drummed his fingers, he felt something he thought was satisfaction, like the same feeling he got when he killed Lord Spencer in his own cell. His hand brushed past Zaac's spine and ribcage when he ripped his arm out of his second son's torso.

There was no more sound. Zaac hardened while blood flew from the hole in his chest and mouth. His eyes darted around like they wanted to escape his head, bouncing from side to side. His numb fingers dug around in his chest cavity, volumes of blood coursing over his fingers told him that he was dying at an alarming rate. The brutality of his determination proved to be t0o much, even for a Demigod.

"That hurts us… Fuck…" Zaac's voice softened, wondering if he could survive, he felt his legs collapse, and he scrunched against the wall. "I… failed…?"

Dripping blood was audible when it trickled through Wesker's grasp and onto the floor. "Plans change, and shit happens. Deal with it."

"Zachariah… I have been defeated..." Zaac said. Blood dripped from his torn lips. He blinked rapidly to stay conscious and closed his eyes one last time. His body slid down the wall.

It was no easy task, but it was done, Wesker finally killed Zaac, and he will trouble his plans no more. Chris was a step down in comparison so there won't be any problems killing him after today. What should be felt like a victory over a worthy opponent, Wesker wasn't feeling the emotions he was expecting, probably to do with the fact he punched a hole through his son's chest with his hand. That'll do it.

He didn't know what to feel. Joy? That he swatted a pest that always interfered with his plans? Satisfaction? That he killed an opponent that almost rivalled him in power? Or perhaps regret… Zaac was the only person that despised him the very least and actually had some hope he would change his wicked ways. The hole in his dead son's chest suggested not only he crossed the line, but he also smudged it and spat on it.

"You should have run when you had the chance, boy." _Albert, what have you done?_ A female voice said inside his head with slight disgust. "Damn it," Wesker sighed. "Not this again." He walked to the cockpit to see if he could commandeer the plane for his personal use in tracking Chris. He was probably on foot right now, and the tracking systems in the plane could single him out. _You killed our son!_ "He chose his side."

Wesker wouldn't admit he wasn't spectacular with planes and aircraft, but he just didn't care for the usage of them. Computers were more his thing. He assumed the role as pilot and got comfortable. There were too many dials overhead and not enough options to initiate what he wanted: to track down any moving objects within the area of the plane.

The altitude was high, passing well over Mount Everest but no sign of moving objects such as man or machine. There was nothing the radar could pick up this high since there wasn't anything out there apart from a vacant building stationed at the peak of Everest. It was owned by Umbrella. Wesker saw it since his eyesight is phenomenal.

Could take the plane and crash it somewhere like the B.S.A.A. headquarters or a Verkraft facility. _Damn._ Autopilot was on. Couldn't switch it off. The terminal displayed an error of a man with glasses wagging his finger and spouting a patronising "no, no, no" and stating he didn't say the magic word. _Scott…_ That man was too smart for his own good. Heard he makes impenetrable antiviruses now, for man and machine.

The alarm came back on. Looked like it was another stowaway. Wesker whipped his head around and jumped from the chair to investigate the cargo room. The rear door was opening slowly with a groan, Zaac leant on the wall and had a rucksack on his back. A parachute. His body was slouched and had a sway; he didn't even bother addressing the wound in his chest and back. Left a trail of blood from the pool where he sat earlier.

As fresh air was getting sucked into the room, Wesker grabbed Zaac and threw him to the back of the room. Zaac was a wreck; he couldn't get back on his feet and slipped a bit on his hands. "Didn't I… kill you earlier?" Wesker sighed. "That still wasn't enough?"

Zaac strained and groaned. "You have no idea… what we're capable of… Just give us a minute, and I'll show you full well..." was all Zaac could manage.

"You got ten seconds to impress me and… time's up."

Wesker shot and fired at Zaac rapidly with his handgun all across his body. Bullets skipped, skimmed and struck his body in several places. The 9mm rounds broke upon the impact of his armour plates while the rounds to his belly and back hurt like hell. Zaac screamed, changing pitches while the bullets made furrows in his skin and flesh.

Zaac writhed on the ground like an insect in a frying pan, bleeding with every subtle move. "Your armour is somewhat adequate, but that won't save you from a few headshots will it?"

"I can take it..." Zaac rolled onto his hands and knees and collapsed. Wesker took the parachute from his back. The door behind was fully open.

"Ah, looks like I am done here. Chris will be next soon enough. Tell me, how far could a man his age get? I don't have time to waste-"

Zaac rolled back over with his fingers flexed out, both hands snapping to the air. Then the air rippled, and Wesker was shot back again at the ceiling with twice the force and velocity. He growled and scrunched on his back, wondering how Zaac keeps doing that. Zaac launched himself on Wesker and pinned his neck with his strongest tricep and kept the pressure on him. Wesker couldn't budge him with his son's hand over his right arm. Stronger than usual...

"How the hell do you keep doing that?!" Wesker snarled.

"You don't know what I'm capable of." Wesker allowed him to continue; he earned that right. "Zachariah is not the same person since Rockfort… since Veronica… since Ashford. He is a changed man and that apotheosis has birthed _ME! A_ nd as long as I live, you can count on me to do everything I can to protect and serve humanity! Even if I have to kill you, a poor excuse for a father-"

Wesker lost his smile. "Like I care."

"You should, because of your bullshit, you gave us no choice." Zaac took out the detonator he had hidden in his rear pocket and shown it to Wesker. He wasn't happy. "When I send you to hell, tell them _Sarkis_ sent you."

Wesker whipped his right elbow around and struck the side of Sarkis' head. He stumbled and dropped the detonator. Something loudly cracked and his howling was fractured. Wesker turned around and grabbed Sarkis' neck and slammed the back of his head onto the metal ground.

Sarkis' skull caved in and bled all over Wesker's fingers. He threw his limp body as hard as he could far away behind him, Sarkis' head struck a low-hanging bar and turned him over. His bent back was laid down flat out and exhausted to some extent. His bones started to ache.

"Sarkis? Is that what you're calling yourself now? This _Sarkis_ will be sending me to hell? Please… Heaven and hell are just stupid stories that handicap fickle-minded humans."

Sarkis rolled his body onto his left side, slowly. Blood leaked from his mouth and all around his head. "You'll soon know that now, won't you? I've seen things beyond humanity, Wesker, and your actions leads to a place _worse_ than hell."

Wesker scoffed. "You are not the one to decide anyone's fate but your own."

"Eternal damnation awaits you..." Sarkis whipped his hand and in a black blur, something white appeared in his hand. The detonator. "Game over." He pressed the button, and all sound blurred out.

All the C-4 detonated in complete unison, under and above the plane's hull. The wings and rotors came apart first in a fireball of explosive force that controlled the detonation. Intense flames caught fire as the fuselage exploded and the air caught aflame.

The sound of it was deafening. The cockpit did a nosedive while everything else was shattered into a hundred pieces, along with everything inside the plane at the time. Only the rotors and engine was marginally salvageable.

Sarkis barely survived with only a few burns and broken bones, thanks to his armour. One leg was broken, his arms were gored out and bloody. Left bicep was all bone. He tossed and turned around in the air before hitting a jagged side of Everest; the impact tore out his shoulder and hips of their flesh. Luckily he was unconscious.

Sarkis rolled over several times and covered himself in layers of snow and frost. He finally stopped at a ledge of a cliffside, thousands of meters from the peak and a few thousand from the ground. The sky was dark with no stars to brighten it, Sarkis felt bliss and relaxation staring into the night's sky.

A horrible metallic crash thundered the air, the cockpit landed. Hard. The sheer destruction of the plane warranted a full mortality rate, not only for Wesker but for Sarkis too. A dead voice that wasn't his still bothered him. _Well done, Sarkis. You done killed yourself and Zaac._ The monster within was right. Sarkis' eyelids were getting heavy, and his breaths were slowing down. Death was only a few seconds away; he found an average the last time he died.

 _Twenty seconds._ If that explosion didn't kill Wesker, nothing will. Sarkis was sure though, only someone with supernatural powers could survive a burst of controlled explosions on an aircraft as such. Sarkis was almost buried in a blanket of snow. He lifted himself up on his good arm and broke the surface.

 _Ten seconds until death._ "May your actions forever haunt you, Wesker..." Sarkis murmured. He smiled once and fell limp on his stomach. The red snow slowly reclaimed him.

Zaac was back and he instantly felt his heart ache. "That… did not… got according… to plan..." He rolled onto his back and took one final gasp of air before more blankets of snow covered him. Layers upon layers of ice cold blankets buried him slowly. He closed his eyes.


	2. Totally black hawk down

Somewhere above China, nearing Mount Everest. Saturday, 3rd March 2018. 11:52 pm.

It all began again when three college teenagers were on their way home after a surprise get-together from their ex-colleagues. They were taking an extended journey for their leisure in their boss' private jet. It was black, sleek and reasonably cramped, but had sick style and some speed to back it up.

These three girls were superspies of W.O.O.H.P., experienced and gifted. They were previously visiting their old guardian Sir Jerry Lewis; he was taking retirement well, and in his absence, the girls were given a pair of new guardians Patryk Detrovski and his wife, Ashley.

There was the lovely Samantha Simpson, the determined brains of the group. The beautiful Clover Thompson, the creative thinker. Last but not least was the enthusiastic Alex Campbell, the acrobatic fighter. All three individuals complemented each other exceptionally well over the years under their guardian's supervision. Times change… People move on… Not these three though, they were best friends forever.

Things at W.O.O.H.P. took an odd turn since Jerry's retirement. Most gadgets were replaced with lethal weapons to help keep terrorism as low as possible, as per Patryk's authorization, licences to kill were also allowed to all personnel including his best superspies. It's a serious business if it already wasn't. There were _some_ exceptions to allow gadgets to be used.

Some gadgets are irreplaceable. The compowder is crucial for communication as well as the jetpack backpack and the cable bungee belts. The girls never leave without their tight kevlar jacket to match their classic green, yellow and red jumpsuits. The Glock 18C standard issue and a form of bladed weapon for close combat. A hidden blade sheathed inside their left sleeve was a popular choice over a knife.

The girls were in the cockpit, surrounded by control terminals and various buttons. Alex was flying with Clover acting as copilot; she wasn't doing an exceptional job, too busy filing her nails. Sam was taken by the sights of the night sky, leaning on Alex's chair with a smile. They were alone, nearing the airspace over Mount Everest.

"Nothing quite like a long journey home after seeing some old friends," Sam said aloud. "Life is never uneventful."

"Comes with the job," Clover added, hardly skipping her perfect nails. "We're just too good at what we do."

Alex reared her head to Clover with a tight frown. "Are we? We don't get the treatments like we used to since Jerry's retirement."

"Alex, how are you going to learn how to fly if you don't keep your eyes focused?"

"Aren't I already good enough? Clover's here too, Sammy."

Sam sighed. "She's not exactly helping because she's still doing her freakin' nails."

"I'm supervising." Clover stopped filing her nails and shrugged. "You think I'm born this good looking? It's an art form to maintain one's beauty. Since I'm totally out of the fashion game, I got to make ends meet." She continued filing her nails and brushed them clean. "Jerry's retirement makes me feel like time is going too quick, we're not the same kids we were back in the old days. I want to stay young and pretty forever, so you know… better stick to what you're best at."

"Don't we all?" Alex asked.

"Keep your eyes on the road."

"We're flying..."

Sam stuttered. "You know what I mean. I just don't want you to crash. Do you remember how many driving lessons you failed because of spontaneous crashing?"

Alex blinked rapidly and huffed. "Point taken." Her eyes focused back on the controls. The jet handled a bit smoother.

Clover folder her arms and put her feet up on the terminal in front of her. It wasn't on. "Practice makes perfect. Of all people who still can't drive, you fly better than the rest of us."

"Thanks, girlfriend," Alex smiled.

"How do you feel since Patryk took over?"

"Yeah, you took it harder than the rest of us."

Clover rolled her eyes. "Maybe I did… like the first time… he's actually grown on me. I know Jerry can get up in our grill now and then back in the old days when he invaded our privacy, but we didn't mind because that was his charm. It's just not the same."

"Things change," Sam murmured sadly, staring at Clover's wonderful blue eyes. They matched her feeling of grief. "People move on… They get old and retire."

Clover smiled. "Jerry was a lenient old goat. At least our new guardians and their assistant are total hotties. Shame they're married. If they were ten years younger…" She smacked her lips. "I could change their ways…"

"Uhm… Patryk's thirty-eight and Mozz's like… thirty-six. You'd need more than ten years."

"And Ashley's thirty-five. Didn't think you were _that_ bi..."

Clover threw her arms in a huff. "Don't remind me. Do me a favour and at least tell me these things before I start to dribble? Most people are getting better looking with age, and no one gives me a heads up?" Sam and Alex chuckled.

"Do your homework more often, and you'll find the answers for yourself."

Clover smiled again and leant back in her chair to close her eyes better. "That's what boyfriends are for Sammy. We all share that luxury."

"Not everyone has the smartest boyfriend in the world."

"Sounds to me you're jealous over Josh."

"No…" Sam muttered, "Maybe a little." She cleared her throat and spoke in a slightly higher pitch. "I'm just saying you shouldn't have him do everything for you."

"I'm making up for lost time I wasted swooning over boys instead of men."

"Yeah, I can't imagine how tongue-tied you were when you asked Patryk if you could borrow his private jet." Alex giggled, "That would be fun to watch."

Clover's eyes suddenly opened. "About that… I never _asked_ Patryk per se. I just borrowed it."

"You stole it?"

"I'm sure he won't mind, he trusts us."

"He trusts _me_ mostly, Alex." Clover folded her arms. "Has he even seen your driving?"

Alex shrugged. "Ehhh, I'm sure he has bigger things on his mind."

Something beeped from another console by Clover's feet. It was a green radar, it swept in circles, and there was a pulsing dot when it passed over. "Uhhh, Alex, what is that beeping?"

Alex leant her body to her left to look at the green circle with a smaller one inside the steel box. She was a better flyer but not good with the complicated words. It was a radar sweep of some sort, that's all she knew. "I think the jet detected something. Somewhere… behind us?" A horrible sound of a distant explosion growled somewhere behind their jet. "The hell was that?"

"Must have come from Everest."

"We're flying over Everest?" Sam said eagerly. She walked past Clover to the window on her right to look outside, like a child to a candy store. "This is so cool. Wait… I think I see something… Clover look."

Clover swivelled her body over and stood by Sam to peer her eyes to the window on the right, trying to see what Sam was spying at. It was an unidentified building that was fused into Everest's side, like a tick on the glorious mountain. "That looks like it doesn't belong there.

"Should we radio it in to headquarters?"

"We're not on duty, Clover." Sam turned her head from the window, and Alex kept her eyes on her flying.

"Radio it in anyway."

Alex flicked on a switch under a computer monitor. It displayed static, and the sound was the same. "WOOHP H.Q., can you hear me?" Silence ensues.

"It must be the blizzard. I hate blizzards."

"Blizzard nothing. This hardware is state of the art." Alex changed the frequency with a little twist of her wrist. The screen was still full of static.

"WOOHP Headquarters. How can I help you?" a dull female voice asked.

"This is Alex Campbell, patch me through to Patryk."

"One moment please," the woman said. Her voice was consumed by sudden static.

"Hello?" No answer. "Damn it," Alex cursed. "Now what?"

Sam whipped her head around to look out the window on her side again, just after a loud pulsing beep came back on the radar. She focused on the radar a bit more than the others and knew what the beeping was for. Warnings. "What's this radar for Alex?"

"Detects aircraft. Right? Or anything as big..."

"Does it?"

Alex looked at the radar with Sam and read some lettering at the bottom of the screen. Missile detected! A red button with a little icon of a torch or a stick of sorts. "Don't look now girls but I think I made a mistake..."

"Missile incoming!" Every sweep disclosed the small blip to be getting closer. It was right behind their jet.

"Alex!" Clover roared, whipping her body away from the window. "The flares!"

The jet took a hit to the very rear of the jet; the right engine was destroyed with parts of the rudder and stabiliser along with it. The force of the blast toppled the jet's weight and shifted it to turn over and drag to the right side. Clover and Sam didn't buckle up so they slipped and fell to the right wall that turned the jet so much Alex couldn't fight it. She pulled hard to the right and encouraged the jet to turn all the way over and beyond.

Sam and Clover rolled over each other and fell back down on the regular flooring, the sudden change in force toppled the jet back on its side again. Hanging too far to the left now and slowly drifting upside down, Sam and Clover wasn't happy with Alex's choice to go with the flow. There was more beeping from the radar; another missile was coming for them. Alex released some flares with a quick button press.

A barrage of flares shot off in several directions but it was too late, the missile collided with the jet's left wing and that broke it off entirely into pieces. The jet turned upside down, and then the last engine stopped working, and the girls started screaming for their lives. Alex couldn't keep it all together, left was right and down was up. She panicked.

They lost altitude and started to plummet into a nosedive, Clover and Sam were pressed against the door behind them. Alex was thankful she was strapped in. The jet split the low clouds in two and fell into a dark abyss, nose first. Clover and Sam flew forward into the window in front of Alex. They were taking some heavy damage. Sam was already unconscious, and Clover's nose was broken. Thankfully the rest of the jet balanced against a small rocky wall. Not fully up on the nose, almost leaning.

Alex covered her head, trembling for the next crash. For a second there was nothing, the jet was still on its nose. It was upright. The ice it was balancing on was solid, everything else around was all snow and hard to correctly assume to be safe. Another drop was seen outside on the right window. Clover was about to speak as the jet started to groan and drift towards the right side. Falling again on the rear end, Clover and Sam slammed into the cockpit door.

The jet fell onto its side with enough speed to roll over twice, finally stopping the right way up. It was a few meters away from a ledge that was too dark to see down. Alex was certain they stopped falling after giving it a few seconds to a minute. She unstrapped her seatbelt and went to Sam and Clover's aid. Sam was still unconscious. Clover groaned when she sat up, broken nose and all. Now her right arm was broken. _Great_.

"I think we stopped moving."

Clover moaned. "Great. Arm's broken and my beautiful face is ruined," she whined. "But at least we stopped moving," she mocked nicely albeit a bit _too_ enthusiastically.

"Geez, just passing positive vibes, Clove. We're still alive, isn't that enough?"

Clover cursed under her breath after a sudden twitch in her arm hurt her. She laid down on her back and let out a short cry. "I'm sorry… It's not like any of us built an immunity to being shot out of the sky but… damn… my arm's actually broken. Like, for real this time."

Alex poked Sam's body and checked her breathing. She sighed happily. "She's just unconscious. What do we do now?"

"Get a damage report and wait it out."

Alex hesitated. "Wait what out? No one knows we're up here."

"Patryk does. It's _his_ jet. Wouldn't you put trackers on your private jets if you had as many as he did, Al? Once he finds one missing he'll just track it."

"Is it that easy?"

"For our sake it better, or we'll be out here for a long time."

"Makes you almost take whooping for granted, huh?"

Clover smiled. "Look at us now. Three young adults trapped on Everest." Her legs shook when she sprawled up on her feet, clutching her arm. "Try to revive Sam and salvage what you can; I'll see if I can get a signal on my compowder."

Alex saluted. "Aye aye, captain."

"Don't say that… I don't like giving you orders."

"Well… you kinda are. You were the most _whooptastic_ agent. Remember? Taking that supervisory role over us and becoming a major diva."

"We're not kids anymore Alex; this is serious."

"Gotcha. I'll see if I can get any communication working on this end. Maybe find some medication for you and Sam, a blanket or something… in case we have to stay the night."

"Not looking forward to that," Clover groaned. She looked around the cockpit; everything looked like trash or about to be. "See if you can find any emergency rations and supplies, they should be in the very far back of the jet. I know Patryk wasn't stingy about supplies..."

"No problem." Alex stood over Sam. "You mind?"

"What you looking at me for? I can't carry her."

"Have you tried?"

Clover reached out and withdrew her hand. "My arm's broken, give me a break."

"Please… She's too heavy."

"You're stronger than me."

"You just don't want to break a nail. Typical."

Clover rolled her eyes and met Alex's once more without a nice smile. "No… I just don't want to break my other arm!"

"Drama..." Alex hoisted Sam's body over her shoulders with a short grunt. She wasn't that heavy, but she still strained. "Don't tell Sam I said she was heavy."

"Don't tell her I quit fashion design class." An eye for an eye. Clover outgrew her love and rivalry with fashion and shopping years ago. Adult mind. Adult peers. "Fashion and trends are… not who I am anymore."

"Wow… we really did grow up."

The girls left the cockpit to see the damages in the seating room. There was a huge caving at the far end of the room, yet the chairs and tables were all still in place. Having them screwed into the flooring was such a good idea. The chairs, tables and the large couch was unmoved. All the windows were all smashed, however.

The two item boxes were still locked up. One had medical supplies and the other, weapons and gadgets. Clover had her pink compowder in hand while Alex laid Sam out on the brown couch and wrapped her in a blanket.

"I'll go outside and see if I can get a signal," Alex said, "You try and salvage what you can. We need Patryk on this."

"Yeah, sure." Alex released a switch that opened the door to leave the jet. A huge gust of snow and wind forced her to pull her yellow hood up. "It's freezing out there."

"Don't take too long. The same dipstick that shot us down is probably still out there."

Alex stepped out, and the sights hit her instantly. The cold wind and snow brushed past her, and the sound was beautiful. Dark night sky with a large cliff behind the jet, the one they impacted. Some small ledges and rocky mountains were far below, a few hundred feet down. The bad part was the jet's condition. The lack of engines, rudders and stabilisers was awful. The last wing was destroyed before it settled at long last.

There were no railing, so caution was crucial, Alex made baby steps when she walked around the rim to be confident enough to walk. If the rocky mountains can take the jet's weight, she felt good enough to just walk out on her own to find a signal.

Alex walked around on the left side, following the same slippery ledge. She had to make the few short jumps now and then, but it was worth it; hopefully, they needed a signal and the wifi is stronger the closer it is to the peak. Alex forgot about her compowder for a second to focus on something she saw below the ledge she was walking.

The wreckage of a C-130 Hercules was barely noticeable in a crevice, covered in layers of snow; she only noticed it because it was a huge crack in the rocky ground. Alex used her bungee belt on the ledge she was standing on and lowered herself down to investigate.

There was some wreckage around the crevice, but the cockpit was more or less intact to look around in. Controls were obviously useless to salvage, and then there was the radio, which was still in one piece, so she ripped it out of the rest of the electronics. The cockpit was stuck on its left side.

Everything was cold to the touch; all was undisturbed for years. The radio could be scrapped for parts since the model was similar to their jet's. Alex took a look at all the salvage around the crevice until some words caught her eye. She wiped away the frost and snow to see some bold lettering.

The B.S.A.A. Alex heard about them, a significant anti-terrorism organisation that was very successful in early 2000. W.O.O.H.P. likes to keep things private, which was until Patryk took over two years ago. Since the war on terror is just getting worse, all anti-terrorism organisations need to stick together.

Alex found a nickel-plated handgun with a golden W on the rubber grip. It was flawless, so she kept it as a keepsake, then moved on to see how far along the ledge goes. It turned out it doesn't go very far, a large pile of snow blocked her off, far too dangerous to plough through it, so she cut her losses and went back to the ledge she bungeed from. There were no changes in signal anyway.

Alex got a call from Clover on her compowder. Her image was a video capture. "Any luck?" Clover asked.

"No signal just yet. How's Sam?"

"She's already looking into our communications. She says she _might_ be able to get the radio working, but she needs to take it apart."

"I found an old radio from another wreck. It's a similar model."

Clover inched her head closer to her screen. "You just happen to find a wreckage with a radio in it?"

"I'll show you." Alex brought the B.S.A.A. plane into her compowder's image and shown Clover the broken junk and the leftover cockpit. "I found it in a crevice."

Sam peered her head over Clover's left shoulder. "Is that Alex?"

Clover turned her head to Sam "Don't interrupt…" Then back to the camera. "Alex, bring that radio here, it might be what we need to get in touch with headquarters. Sam… tidied the jet up, so that's cool."

"Sweet!" Alex smiled. "That's no problem girls; I'm heading back now." She put away her compowder and then heard something moving around in the snow behind her. _Probably just the wind_ , she thought.

Then she heard a voice, a grumble, a groan. Sounded almost human. She turned around and saw whatever it was and pulled out her handgun. The figure fell into the snow and stopped moving after a short minute. Alex went over to check what it was.

She wiped the snow off the figure carefully, with her handgun ready in her other hand. She unearthed what appeared to be an arm and shoulders. It was a man. He was covered in a layer of frost, his skin was an unhealthy shade of light blue, and his body was frozen stiff. He was also dead. Alex concluded that he must have died from the cold over the last few weeks or even months. No amount of CPR in the world would make a difference.

Alex checked his pulse around his neck and got nothing; there was no heartbeat. She squinted her eyes and felt something was off when Zaac's eyes opened. The launched herself back when he suddenly sat up with a blank expression. Gun in hand, she took aim. Zaac didn't budge, his body was trembling, but he didn't make any sudden moves other than raising his hands in surrender.

"Don't shoot..." he croaked.

"Oh my God… You're… You're not dead!"

"Oh, I'm sorry… were you expecting a corpse?"

"Well… yeah. You had no pulse."

"I don't have a pulse when I hibernate." Zaac rubbed his frozen arms, slowly picking up the pace to warm himself up. Then he did the same with his face that was losing the shade of blue with every rub. He was warm now. Alex didn't let her guard down. "I'm feeling uncomfortable being held at gunpoint. Would you mind?"

Alex chewed her lip. "Okay… but no funny stuff."

"I'm not going to hurt you, ma'am. You got ten feet on me and a gun." Alex nodded and holstered her handgun. Zaac twisted his body and lifted himself up on his feet until his legs looked like they were going to give away. Alex swooped in and helped him stand up. Her hand was firm on his chest and back.

"You good to walk?"

"Thanks," he mumbled. "My muscles ache."

"Who are you?"

Zaac brushed Alex away and stood without any help. He cracked his neck. "Zachariah Wesker, and you are?"

"Alex Campbell. I'm from WOOHP."

"World Organisation Of Human Protection?"

"Oh, yes. How do you know?"

"I know a few people here and there..."

Alex checked her compowder for any signal. There was nothing, the only communication she had was between Sam and Clover. That radio might come in handy. "You should excuse me for being hasty, but we gotta move. My friends and I are stranded here, and it's pretty bitter out in the cold."

Zaac shrugged. "You get used to the cold."

"You're more than welcome to join me and my friends for some warmth."

Zaac nodded. "I can't leave a woman unaccompanied."

"Follow me."

Alex went to the higher ledge she came from and used her bungee belt to launch the coiling wire that she climbed up. Zaac leapt straight up at an angle; it was inhuman. Alex made a short note of that and smiled. The jet was unmoved since Alex departed.

"Your jet took a bigger beating than my plane. What happened?"

"Some nutjob shot us out of the sky."

Zaac's stomach flipped and churned. "Some assclown is shooting planes out of the sky?" he moaned. "Do you have a working radio?"

"I dunno. Let's find out."

Alex pulled out the small set of stairs to enter the jet, swatting away the blanket Clover must have used to block out the cold in the process. Zaac took the whole covering to the face; it was clean but dull. The inside of the jet was tidy now. The plain couches were up against the windows and the armchairs were on the sides of the cockpit door and by a table in the middle of the room. There was limited light coming from a small lamp on the table. The heating was on.

"I'm back!" Alex called. "I have the radio."

Zaac stared at the strangely familiar radio, the edgy design and colour _was_ his taste. "You took my radio?"

Alex blinked and intercepted Zaac's glare with her innocent face. "Oh, was that _your_ plane? Huh… Guess that explains how I found you."

"The plane exploded, and I fell… I didn't know what happened to the rest of it."

Alex waved her hand. "It's in a crevice somewhere." Her hands were on her hip with a slight slouch. Their old radio was sat on the table with some tools and spare parts, next to the lamp. Sam's lamp. "Looks like they were trying to fix the radio."

Clover and Sam left the cockpit and saw Alex and Zaac standing there by the open door. Clover closed the door tight with a button press. Her left arm was in a sling. "Keep the heat in much?" Her pretty blue eyes locked onto Zaac's gold eyes and almost got lost in them.

Clover never swooned over boys for a long time since she met her boyfriend, but this time she almost looked like she was going to break that streak. Zaac's slight shyness when he brushed his hand over his short ruffled auburn hair almost cemented that fact. "Who's this handsome guy?" she asked, almost blushing.

"Since your friend here revived me and gave me a bit of warmth, allow me to introduce myself formally." Zaac cleared his throat with a short cough; his voice wasn't used for some time. "The name's Chief Zachariah Alphonso Wesker of the Los Angeles Police Department." He ended his little intro with a brief salute. "At your service."

Zaac was cursed with a sour feeling of bitter silence for what reason he didn't know. "Right…" Sam murmured.

Sam sat down at the table that had the radio and terminal on. They were linked together. Clover stepped in. "Alex, we got the radio working so we don't need that radio you found right now."

"Oh?"

"Got the heating on as well, so that's nice. At least we won't freeze to death."

"Can I have my radio back then please?" Zaac asked politely.

Alex handed Zaac his radio. A big and bulk monstrosity. "Sure," she sighed.

"Thanks. Planes don't grow on trees you know. I need all the money I can get."

Sam was struggling to find the radio's frequency to reach W.O.O.H.P. headquarters, once she found it she was happy until it was just all static. She sighed but never let go of the dials. "So you're the chief of the L.A.P.D., Mr Wesker?" she said, without taking her eyes off the monitor that just shown static.

"That's right," Zaac smiled. "But Mr Wesker was my father…" _That just sounds weird._ "Just call me Zaac."

"Zack?" Clover said, uncertain.

"If you prefer to pronounce it like that, but it's not spelled traditionally wise. It's Z, A, A, C. Everyone prefers it that way. I just say it a bit sharper."

"Zaac?"

"Bingo. Have you three been in WOOHP long?"

"Four years and running. What about you Zaac? Been in the L.A.P.D. long?"

Zaac juggled the radio in his hand. "Since 2005. I was freelance until they hired me as their deputy chief. I was promoted to full chief when my predecessor was killed three years later. We were pretty close..."

Clover sighed. "That… sucks."

"How long have you been up here, Zaac?"

"My plane crashed over here on March."

Sam moved away from the radio and monitor to look at Zaac as if she misheard something important. "Uhm… it's March now. What day did you get stuck here."

Zaac pulled his lip and remembered hard. "I was in Africa a few days before…" He clicked his fingers. "The tenth!"

"Zaac..." Alex said with a little sadness in her tone. "It's the third…"

Zaac's face sagged now, and he groaned, staring at the girls, starting with Alex and ending on Sam. "Aw, no no no..." he brushed his hair. "What year is it?"

"Twenty-eighteen."

Zaac's face lost all colour, and his body froze; he dropped the radio he was holding. "I see…" His eyes shifted here and there, almost looking suspicious. "I might need some time alone outside," he said tightly without any joy.

Alex picked up the radio by Zaac's feet and looked up to him. "Will you be back?" she asked.

Zaac's eyes never faced anyone in the room. "I don't know..." He pressed the button by the door and left as soon as the stairs set down. The blanket settled as the girls silently glared at each other, all wondering what he was upset about.

Alex put Zaac's radio by Sam on the table. It looked fine; their one still had no signal. "Alex, where did you find Zaac?" Sam asked once the radio was set by her arm.

"Didn't Patryk say anything about picking up strangers, Al?"

Alex looked to Clover. "He's not a stranger; his name is Zaac. I found him buried under some snow by the plane." She looked at Sam with a little smile. "I thought he was dead and then he started moving..."

"Might as well be. If Zaac was stuck on the day, he said he was then…" Sam shrugged. "I don't know what to say…" She folded her arms. "Humans can't take the temperature for the months he was stuck here."

"He never said months. He might've just… got the day wrong..."

"If he was the occupant of that plane, he could've survived the crash, but the cold is something I find odd. Alex, you should keep an eye on him."

"Sure boss," Alex frowned.

Sam went back to try out their radio and Clover went into the cockpit for her own reasons. Alex left the plane and put her hood back up. It was colder than before, and it wasn't hard to tell. Finding Zaac wasn't hard; he has sat on an icy ledge quite far on the left. Alex heard some crying; she sat by him.

Alex broke the ice. Pun not intended. "This seat taken?"

Zaac looked away from Alex. "Take it," he muttered. He had some tears running over his cheeks.

"You alright?"

"You're quite the caring type, Alex," he lightly said. He turned his head over to her on his right. "I've been up here for so long; I don't know what to feel. The world I knew has moved on without me."

"Yeah, you kinda sounded horribly surprised when I told you the year."

"It doesn't matter anyway, old history." He looked away and back to her. "You girls live in Beverly Hills?" Alex nodded. "Same. At least we can help each other get home."

Alex stands up and offers him her hand. "Then come on. It's cold out here."

Zaac smiled and took Alex's small hand. He was feeling better, that was apparent. Then there was a loud crack in sound, like a thunderbolt piercing through the sky. A gunshot. Zaac's head rolled back, and he yelled out, covering his face. Spurts of blood trickled through his fingers and with his face bleeding like a tomato, he staggered off the edge.

Alex screamed and covered her mouth. Another round zipped past her head; now she was the prime target. She rushed back into the jet and closed the door behind her. In her lack of breath state, Clover and Sam rushed to ask what was going on first.

Clover rushed from the cockpit. "Did somebody scream?"

"Probably Alex."

"Someone just killed Zaac!" Alex cried. "Somebody shot him and… and then they tried to kill me!"

Sam stood up so fast her chair flew back; she was almost scared. "Are you serious? Someone out there is trying to kill us?!"

"It must be the same person who shot us down," Clover added.

"They _killed_ Zaac!"

Clover started to cry in her free hand. "He was too sexy to die," she sobbed. "Didn't even get a chance to flirt..."

"Clover… focus!"

Clover wiped away her tears. "Okay… Maybe if we just-"

An explosion made contact with the jet and rocked the rear end upwards. The girls tossed and turned over each other and curled up into the corner outside the cockpit, Alex rolled over Sam and Clover. The couches and armchairs piled on the girls, but the way they collided with each other gave the girls space to thrive under.

The jet almost flipped over on its nose but fell back down flat, closer to the ledge and almost hanged off. The icy ledge started to groan under the weight. The couches and armchairs rolled down closer to the rear, breaking from their holds.

"Unbelievable!" Sam cursed. "Someone is still trying to kill us!" She moved the radios and monitor off her and Clover to quickly unlock the crate on the other side of the jet. She took out three heart-shaped backpacks. "Get your jetpacks ready!"

"Good plan."

The jet suddenly jerked downwards and stumbled Sam onto her hands and knees. Alex and Clover tried to get up to support her and secure the jetpacks, but the jet started to fall from the heavier opposite end. The hull screeched outside with the icy ledge tearing at the metal before the jet started to slip off and plummet.


	3. A promotion to the big leagues

The girls screamed. Clover and Alex wrapped their arms around each other fearing for their lives, and Sam was rolling to the bottom, then she was falling along with the jet. She landed on the pile of furniture. They cried. Alex took a grip on the other crate and placed her foot on a window ledge; Clover hung from her other leg.

Sam twisted. The air whipped at her hair. Her body turned. Still, she screamed. There was nothing they could do. They were quick, but they weren't fast enough to let go and get their jetpacks before contact, let alone fly away at a safe distance.

Their jet abruptly stopped falling and came to a sudden halt. Sam was curled into the rear end with the jetpacks; she was alive but still a bit scared. The jet was still bottom heavy with Sam, the radios and the monitor down there with her. They were broken now if they weren't already. The girls breathed heavily and got their bearings.

"Sam!" Clover called. "You okay?!"

Sam rolled onto her back and waved her hand. "I'm fine..." she moaned loudly.

Alex looked up at the cockpit door. "What stopped us?"

"Girls! Are you okay in there!?" someone called outside.

"Was that..."

"Zaac!" Alex yelled.

"I have an idea." Clover let go of Alex's leg and fired her bungee belt's end piece to latch onto the wall by the cockpit door. She lassoed herself to the door to open it with a button press; it wasn't easy with a broken limb.

Zaac was holding the jet's nose with his bare hands; he was straining something awful keeping the jet from falling. His left arm was wrapped around the nose with his other digging into the hull. His grip slipped for a brief second and then it occurred to him that he couldn't hold on for much longer.

"Girls! Get out of there!" he yelled, "I can't hold on much longer!"

"So Zaac's out there holding up the jet?" Clover wondered submissively.

"Sam!" Alex called. "Use your bungee belt and get up here quick." Sam was silent. "Sam!" she called louder.

"Get down there and bring her here. I'll be fine."

Clover removed her arm from her makeshift sling and lifted herself into the cockpit. She hoisted herself with one flashy flourish. Zaac signalled her over, with a nod, Clover leapt to the left wall to bounce off onto the cockpit chair she used earlier. The glass was smashed, so she just needed a little jump upwards to latch onto the frame that ran down the middle.

She was outside, standing on the frame just under Zaac's left arm. The sight was phenomenal. Lights off in the far distance, the wind brushing her perfect blond hair and the cherry on the top was the wonderful fresh air. Clover bent over to leap over to Zaac and step off him like a stepping stone. She landed safely on solid ground. Now it was Sam and Alex's turn.

Sam and Alex had their jetpacks on; they quickly ascended all the way up into the cockpit. Sliding out of the windows was a tight squeeze, but they flew back over to Clover without any nicks or cuts. All of them was on solid ground and allowed Zaac let go of their jet.

The jet hit the mountain three times with a loud crashing sound that screeched and wailed. It hit a large bed of spiky rocks that ruptured the jet and caused a glorious fireball that roared loudly. The four took a quick breather. Alex wrapped Zaac in a hug so tight it was hard for him to move.

Zaac hugged Alex, but not affectionately, only to turn right around and shield her from a bullet that was audible from a distant cliff well behind them. It was a few hundred meters away, nearing that unidentified building that was more troublesome than a mere tick.

With a quick twist of the body, the round struck the sheath on Zaac's back and shattered into scraps. From Alex's point of view, it was almost romantic, seeing a hunk twist her under him under the beautiful night sky, eagerly waiting for the kissing. Although, the setting was horrible and that wasn't the case. A lunatic was out to kill them all.

Zaac waved his hand and ordered the girls to get behind him and stay together, with him as their shield. He unsheathed a longsword from his back and took a stance with the hilt raised above his head, pointing the tip down. It was a beautiful weapon, the blade glistened in the limited light and had a few blue sigils running down the blade.

Another round roared loudly from the same direction and made contact with Zaac's sword. There was no telling how powerful the bullet was or how durable his sword was, but something ringed as the round struck Zaac's sword. It rebounded off and disappeared, then everything was silent. Zaac sheathed his sword with a little flourish.

Zaac scoffed. "Amateur."

"What the hell was that?" said Clover.

"I deflected the projectile."

They all assumed it was over. They lost their jet, communications and their shelter but at least the person out to kill them was gone now. Zaac seemed confident to declare the assailant's demise. They were left without shelter and warmth, but they were still alive.

The girls were stuck out in the shivering cold for minutes on end, crocked at the far back as they could with only their body heat for warmth. Zaac had his arms around them and acted like a thermal blanket; he noted his armour adapts to temperatures. That was good enough for them to cook up a plan to get home. Eventually, the brainstorming came to an end.

"If we… don't find a… way out of here..." Sam stuttered in her shaky voice that drew hot breaths, "we'll freeze to death..." Sam was just held together by Zaac's arm, Alex was lucky, she was right in the middle. Clover shared her pain.

"How?" Clover breathed. Her teeth started to chatter loudly. "The freakin' radio is gone."

"That can't honestly be the only communication device on this rock," Zaac said, completely undisturbed by the cold. "Just because ours is kaput, doesn't mean all is lost."

"How else can we contact people?"

"Doesn't your compowder have a button to make a distress call? I'm sure WOOHP can track it."

"How do you-"

Clover pressed a button on her compowder and tucked it into her side pocket. "Done."

"One of those things… that could've been done… ages ago…"

"I forgot."

"The guy that shot you down must have the means to stay in touch with the outside world, even if it's just a phone. There's signal the closer you get to the top of Everest, so we just got to put the pieces together. Might be a place to keep warm."

"Where do we start?"

"Clover…" Sam stuttered, "Didn't we see a… building on Everest somewhere?"

Clover rubbed her chin. "Hmm… It's strange that we were shot down _after_ we noticed that building."

"What building?"

"It looks like a black box of sorts, somewhere on the side of the mountain up there," Clover said, stretching her arm out to point to her right. She indicated that this building was around the tall mountain to her right, somewhere just around the corner. Zaac couldn't see anything from the angle he was sat but took their word for it.

"Could you reach it with your jetpack?"

"Hopefully. It may not have enough juice to get back home, but it'll do." Clover grabbed Alex's shoulder and shook her; she was asleep. Looked cosy hugging Zaac like a child. "Alex, we're moving."

Alex yawned. "Where to?"

"That building Sam and I saw earlier. It's the only shot we got at this point."

"All right. Lead on."

"Wait. I don't have a jetpack."

"It's fine, Zaac, I'll carry you."

"I don't like being carried..."

Sam Clover and Alex activated their jetpacks and took off in an instant. Alex wrapped her arms around Zaac's chest tightly, not to drop him since he was actually pretty heavy for her. It felt great using their old jetpacks; they get little action since the use of lethal weapons became almost mandatory. Soaring into the air with the wind caressing their bodies and brushing their hair. It was an old luxury of their spy days.

Zaac didn't like heights; he was a fearless leader, but heights were something he could do without. Alex held him tightly, so he didn't mind as much as he should. The girls soared and accelerated towards a building that looked like a black box with a catwalk all around. Alex dropped Zaac onto the icy catwalk as they descended to join him. The windows were mirrored from the outside.

"This is the place," Sam whispered.

Zaac unsheathed his sword from his back and got ready at the door, as did the girls with their handguns. He was ready to breach. With a firm shoulder, Zaac rammed the door down with his right shoulder and took a stance with the blade's tip pointed down. The girls back him up with their sights on all corners. They were alone.

"Why do you keep on using that sword, Zaac?"

"A friend of mine said blades work better for close encounters."

"It's so plain in here," Clover moaned. "Would it kill someone to put up some curtains or something?" She held her broken arm, needed a sling or cast badly.

Zaac investigated the bed. It was unused and tidy. "Doubt the owner wants to expose himself to the public."

"Living up here in secrecy is something a spy would do."

Zaac turned around to Sam. "I wasn't aware of anyone living this close to Everest back in my time."

Alex sat on the warm bed. "Whoever lives here has a lot of explaining to do. Anyone who goes around shooting people out of the sky is asking for it."

Clover smiled and put her hand on her hip with a little swivel. "Yeah. Last I heard there weren't any old hermits shooting jets out of the sky. Just another reason to hate Saturdays."

"It's technically Sunday now."

"Details, details, details..." Clover sighed.

"We're living in terror times now, girls. That's the one thing that never changes."

Opposite the door was a single bed that wasn't slept in for some time, with a wardrobe and footlocker nearby. Just under the windows was a desk and a computer terminal. The corner on the left, closest to the door and windows, was a table and chair. A radio was present, a simple one like Zaac's.

The girls walked in after Zaac, and when the door closed, there was a fridge in the corner on their right. The food inside was the long-lasting preserved food that soldiers use. Tasteless MREs. There was only half left in stock. The drinks were plain water.

In the corner below the bed was two rocket launchers. Auto lock-on Stingers, two of them with a Barret .50 calibre laid down on the floor. Some boxes had individual rockets and ammunition for them. Some of the rockets were missing from the container. There was also some ammo for another rifle that wasn't .50 calibre. The type of round that struck Zaac earlier.

They put their weapons away and ransacked the room, they were all sure it belonged to their assailant, so they dug around for answers. The wardrobe just had changes of warm clothes. Footlocker just had medical supplies. Fridge. Food. All that was left was the PC. Zaac moved the mouse, and the screen saver came off. Clover and Alex tried out the radio and did everything they could to contact W.O.O.H.P. H.Q.

"This is nice," Zaac chuckled, sitting down at the PC. He got comfortable to investigate.

Sam peeked over Zaac's shoulder to see a chat room of sorts. Between two people. "What is?"

"The golon didn't log out."

"Great," Sam smiled. "Time to spy."

The previous conversation was between the owner and another person under the name of "Headquarters", must be a business chat room and not one for social use. The last messages were from the owner; he was finally identified as "Agent 13".

Agent 13's last message was him stating that he will finish the job. He also previously said he shot down an unknown jet and sought out to kill the crew. If Zaac didn't kill him, he might have succeeded. Headquarters said that anyone within the exclusion zone must be silenced. There was nothing too out of the ordinary.

Zaac accidentally collapsed the chat room window and went straight to desktop. The background was just solid black with a yellow and white cress in the shape of a tilted octagon. It was strangely similar to… Umbrella. Only golden and not original red. Zaac sighed over the sheer coincidence.

"Fucking hell, you girls really ticked off the big dogs now. That man's employer was Neo-Umbrella."

"Umbrella? Is it anything like that pharmaceutical giant _Neo-Umbrella?"_

"Neo-Umbrella?" Zaac hesitated. "Are they in any way corrupt and cruel?"

Sam looked to Zaac. "Yeah, why? Are they related?"

"I think I overheard Umbrella's assistant director mention something about Neo-Umbrella succeeding them, once they overthrew the current director. I thought he was bluffing."

"Who was bluffing? How much do you know about Umbrella?"

"Too much for my own good." Zaac started to type away on the computer. He was trying to find extra information on their webpage, but their internet browser required a login. A username and a password, Zaac had none of that. He cursed and slammed the keyboard in a fuss. Sam stepped back. "We're not getting anything from this PC. At least we know who's behind all this."

"Neo-Umbrella…"

Zaac stared at the monitor with a serious glare. The thoughts of Umbrella still being around boiled his blood. "What do you know about them, Sam?"

"They're corrupt as they come, but we never dealt with them personally. Our guardian Patryk tries to keep us away from the bigger threats like them until we're experienced enough to face them."

"Patrick?" Zaac met Sam's eyes. "Patryk Detrovski? A Russian man, about my age?"

"You know him?" she smiled.

"Oh, my God, it is."

"So you _do_ know him."

"We have a rocky friendship. Been a few years really, I heard he married President's Graham's daughter. Nice, if I do say so myself."

"He has quintuplets."

"That's with a five, right?" Sam nodded. "Damn… He is so screwed." He stared back at the monitor and rested his chin on his hands. "Good for him though…"

"How did you get involved with Neo-Umbrella?"

Zaac never looked at Sam. Still thinking internally. "Before I moved to Beverly Hills I lived in Raccoon City my entire childhood, the whole town was basically controlled by Umbrella at the time until its destruction in 1998. I stood up to oppose them after the ordeal, and ever since I did, our relationship got a bit… complicated..."

"You're a Raccoon City survivor?"

Zaac didn't acknowledge Sam's answer. He sighed. "Everything bad that happened to me was because of Umbrella. I spied on their activities. Killed their executives. Exposed their plans. I even disclosed the company's director from hiding, never got to kill him for the grief he caused me."

Sam frowned. "I'm sorry..."

"Save your sympathy; I have no need for it… only justice."

Clover walked on over and stood behind Zaac. She had her broken arm in a fresh sling, despite that she was quite cheerful. "I have good news and bad news."

"Let's hear it."

"We got a hold of headquarters, but no one was there."

"Not even Mozzie?" Sam frowned.

"I left a voicemail for the guardians; it was all I could do. There's no telling when or _if_ anyone will find us," said Clover. "Makes me miss GLADIS." Zaac stood up and walked past Clover and over to the fridge in the back. "Anything useful on this PC?"

Sam folded her arms. "Zaac and I found out that Agent 13, the man that tried to kill us, was hired by Neo-Umbrella. What he was doing here I don't know. Something about maintaining an exclusion zone." Alex and Zaac were rummaging through the fridge of MREs. She was annoying him. "So we might be here for a while?"

"I hope not. I still need to study for our exam this Monday."

"That's what you get for blowing it off until the last day."

"I was busy blowing off _other things_ than my studying," Clover smirked. "I just forgot this time."

Sam groaned. "You're disgusting."

"You should try it on David; it's good for your health and guys fall for it every time. If you want something your way, put your mouth to work and-"

"Oh my God, we're just friends!" Sam blushed and threw her arms in the air. "I don't need to hear this," she interrupted. Sam went away to the other side of the room to sit on the bed. Waiting patiently for rescue. The blanket was a thick thermal one.

Zaac came over with Alex. "We have enough food and water to live here for at least eight days. Apart from that, there's nothing more we can do other than to wait it out."

"Great…" Clover moaned. "Patryk doesn't start work until nine. What do we do until then?"

"I spy?" Alex suggested.

"I'd rather sleep than play that childish game."

"Is that what you'd _rather_ do Clover? Honestly?" Sam mocked.

Clover huffed under her breath and joined Sam on the warm bed. She sat next to her and got comfortable. "Fine… Let's play… until we get bored and fall asleep."

"You girls could have your own TV show," Zaac giggled. "I'd totally like to watch a series all about hot spies saving the world and shit."

"Who'd watch a show about that?"

Alex shushed everyone and jumps onto the bed to sit down against the corner of the wall. "Shhhhh… I spy with my little eye, something beginning with… T."

"Table," Zaac said almost instantly.

"Best two out of three. Something beginning with… F."

"Fridge," Zaac said again, almost as quickly as earlier.

"Best three out of five..."

Oooh, boy," Zaac sighed. "This is going to be a long night…"

No one was sure what time it was until Clover checked her compowder. It was 04:31 am in the morning, it was too cold to sleep, and her broken arm made it hard to try. Sam slept on Alex's shoulder; she slept on Clover's, and Zaac was sat in the middle of the room. Asleep.

Meditating. Zaac was meditating. Legs crossed, hands resting on his knees, eyes closed. It was eerie since meditation was just so last year. Could just be asleep. Clover couldn't sleep. Everyone was lucky to have time pass quicker.

Clover got a call on her compowder; she had a dreadful ringtone that hurt the ears. She flipped it open and saw Patryk Detrovski on the other end. He looked like he only just woke up after a long sleep. Hair was unkempt, and his eyes squinted to adjust to the light. He was sleeping in his office again.

Patryk yawned. "What's going on girls?" he asked clearly, "Why do I have a voicemail at two in the morning?"

"Pat, it's an emergency." Patryk sat closer to the monitor and cleared his sinuses. "We need someone to pick us up from Everest."

Patryk rubbed his forehead that slowly drifted to a brush of his short black hair. "What? Uhm… Y… You're on Mount Everest?" he yawned.

"We're _stuck_ on Mount Everest," she corrected. "We were on our way home from the reunion, and we were shot down by someone as we passed over Everest."

"Are you okay?" he asked sharply with a slight twitch of his eye.

"Destroyed the jet but its all good." Patryk shook his head as if he just lost out on a few thousand dollars' worth of private jet funds. "Apart from that, just minor wounds. The worst part is that the dude who shot us down was hired by Neo-Umbrella. We don't know what they're planning all the way out here, but it's about time we talked seriously about them."

"In due time… I will pick you up as soon as possible, Clover, but on the subject, you know how I feel about sending you on missions of that magnitude."

"They broke my arm, Patryk!" she almost yelled, yet softly lost her seriousness with a little sigh. "I'm ready to lead the girls and I'm sick of being handed the scraps."

Patryk sighed. "Fine. We'll sit down over some tea and discuss your future. Like adults. Jerry was tough on me when I was your age, constantly putting me and Mozz in life and death situations." Patryk paused. "I'm just not sure if I want to do the same to you, Sam and Alex. Or even Brittany, for that matter… I believe in each of you though."

"We're not kids anymore. I can lead them…"

"I promise you, when you get back, the kiddie gloves are coming off." Patryk rubbed his eyes and groaned. "You girls are something else, no wonder Jerry was this cranky and old. I'm only half his age, and I already feel you three sucking the life out of me. That's my kids' job."

"Don't get any ideas, Pat," she chuckled, "and thank you."

"Don't mention it," he finally smiled. He had nice lips and a beautiful grin. Management material. "We'll talk about it more before your next mission. A dangerous one… Now… where are you three waiting?"

"Me and the girls will be waiting for you in a small building near the point. It's black and has a catwalk outside. You can't miss it."

"How am I gonna find a small building on that mountain?"

"As you fly over China, you'll see it."

"Fine. I won't be long, so just stay warm and keep an eye out. Ta-ta for now." Patryk hung up and disconnected. Clover closed her compowder.

"Great, things are looking up for us."

"Patryk's coming?" asked Sam. She was wide awake.

Clover blushed. "How long were you awake?"

"To hear the innuendo between you and Pat," Sam smirked.

"Let it go, Sam… I like him as a friend and a boss. That's IT."

"I also heard talk about a dangerous mission. Care to explain?"

Clover smiled and looked away to the corner with a little sneer. "I might have charmed Patryk into a promotion to the bigger missions." She looked to Sam. "Not the leftover variety."

"I am not looking forward to one of them."

Clover threw her arm up. "Come on Sammy; we're too good for these childish missions. When was the last time we busted a major baddie that wasn't a low-life that wanted to destroy the world in the lamest possible way? I mean… Using fashion, music, ice cream or even coffee! We get all the winners, don't we? Embarrassing much?"

"I have to agree. Our antagonists aren't exactly… effective. Dastardly but not in any way effective as a serious threat. Most of them almost seem like lame villains from a children's spy flick."

"Who was the last major baddie we took down?"

"Terrance and Scam."

"Right. Terry's happily retired and Tim Scam's gone underground. The rest of the LAMOS and the other generic bad guys are wallowing in their cells in their lame self-pity. Oh, what a fantastic life they have. I'm doing us a favour getting put in the big leagues."

"I guess the job has been lacking excitement lately..."

"You can thank me later. I'm thinking… doing the essay. That will even us out."

"You just see the opportunity, and it's already yours."

Clover smiled. "Awww, my secret guide to picking up boys. You remembered..."

"When I think about it, it wasn't a particularly good guide."

"Ha! Worked for me."

"I'll say. You got Josh with that terrible plan involving the snakes and the trombone-"

Clover nodded. "That I did."

"Good for you two. I'm happy just being friends with David… and Alex is shacking up with your ex… All's well that ends well."

"Can we not talk about Blayney please?"

"You still call him that?"

"Not when he's around…" Clover blushed. Saying that reminded her of that dream she had of her and Blayne skydiving all those years ago. Married by Jerry. He was the one. _Used_ to be the one. "Shut up." Matured up since then. A real pothead. "I'm fine with it… Really."

"Whatever you say… boss."

"Not you too," Clover groaned.

"Just as a reminder, when I'm doing your essay, I'll be sure it make it uncomfortable for you."

"Me and my big mouth."

"How did it ever get so big Clover? Sam smirked. _Ahhh, innuendo. A vile mistress_. "Actually scratch that, I already know."

Clover surrendered with her hands above her head. Mocking Sam. "Oh my God, what did I just start? I'm sorry, okay?" She got up from the bed and let Alex's sleeping body slump onto the pillow Clover was sat on.

Alex shot up. "What's going on? What did I miss?" Alex said quickly as if she was secretly a part of the conversation, even though she was sleeping like a log.

"We got promoted," Sam smiled. "Isn't that right Clover?"

"Don't thank me, please," Clover muttered. She went to the fridge opposite to pick out a fresh bottled water. It wasn't very cold; anything was good to drink right now to get rid of the dry taste in her mouth. "I need a drink."

"A promotion? Yeah right." Alex crawled closer to Sam. "What did I _really_ miss?"

"Don't ask. Just be happy to hear that Patryk is on his way."

"Yippee!" Alex cheered. "I cannot wait…. What do we do until then? It's not like anyone brought any video games along."

Clover redirected her eyes to Zaac. It was strange for him to just sit in the middle of the room. Meditation wasn't something she found interesting, too boring for her taste. "We just so happen to be the company of a handsome man, it would be a pleasure to at least get to know him before someone tries to kill us again," Clover said with a slight grin. "We're not having much luck avoiding that all of a sudden."

"Life's short enough as it is."

"Either we get a conversation going or die of boredom." Clover leant on the fridge and took a small sip of water. Tasted warm and generic, like tap water. She walked back to the bed and sat back down next to Alex.

"I guess now is the time to show you something cool I found down on that plane wreck earlier," said Alex. She unholstered the nickel-plated handgun from the empty space of her belt and shown it to the girls. It was unloaded, and it still glimmered. The golden W caught her eye.

Sam took the handgun from Alex's hand and pulled back the slide. "This feels right…" The slide clicked back into place. Sam noticed some words engraved on the left side. The handwriting was exquisite. She read them, "Albert Alphonso Wesker..."

"Who?"

"Senior," Sam continued to read. "It's what it says here on the side."

"Must be what the W on the grip stands for," Alex added.

"Somebody mention my name?" Zaac said. The girls never saw him coming; he just appeared at the side of the bed. He looked rested and had a bit of a frown. Clover almost flinched; she wasn't paying attention.

"Did I?" Sam queried.

"Hey… my Colt," Zaac smiled, "Where'd you find it?"

Alex waved her hand to get Zaac's focus. It worked. "Me. I found it by your plane wreckage."

"Does it belong to you?"

Zaac looked at Sam and nodded. "Yes, it does Sam." He held out his hand. "Can I have it back please?"

"It's a free country." Sam handed Zaac the Colt, and he felt it up with love and care. It was kind of bizarre.

"Thanks. Been in the family for three generations and has quite a… sentimental value." Zaac ejected the magazine and inserted a fresh one into the Colt, before holstering it. He made sure the safety was on.


	4. Dogfight

Zaac strayed off to the tabletop and computer by the windows. His back was turned from the girls, and he just stared off into the distance. It was too dark to see anything out of the ordinary. "It will be a while until our guardian picks us up, Zaac," Sam called, "Since there's nothing else to do would you mind telling us how you got stuck on Everest?"

Zaac folded his arms. "Do you really want to know or are you just making small talk to pass the time?"

"Both..."

"I'll pass. I do owe you a favour for bringing me up to speed, but I'm not comfortable telling teenagers about my affairs."

"Okay..." Sam huffed. "How did you survive up here all this time? Can you tell us that?"

"This armour I made adapts to low and high temperatures." Zaac turned around and tapped on his armour's chest plate, next to a big hole he just noticed. "Hmmm… speaking of armour, mine's a bit under the weather." He wasn't wrong; there was a huge hole in his chest area. The cuts and scrapes shown the wear and tear across the plates over his limbs.

Zaac took off the upper half of his armour off over his head and held it in front of him to inspect. "Awww, man. I cannot believe I forgot about that..." he continued with a little whine. He found the hole goes out the back and put his arm through it. "Looks like it needs a little work."

Clover gawked at Zaac's bare torso. It was shaved, and he had abs! She tried not to make it obvious. Failed badly, fucking him with her eyes. "Aren't you cold?" she asked.

"The cold doesn't bother me. This armour just adapts and does too much of a good job of it actually." Zaac only just noticed his chest was bare and the three girls were staring at him. Clover looked smitten. He could tell and quickly covered his body with his armour. "One second and I completely forgot I wasn't alone. My bad."

"Drool much, Clover?" Alex said.

"Really?" Clover wiped her mouth. "Damn it." She got up to Zaac and held out her hand to him. "Would you like me to hold onto that, maybe fold it for you?"

Zaac blushed and rubbed the back of his head. "If you insist… Clover. It's too hot and stuffy in here anyway." He felt across a small deformity around his heart, a small dip where his scar was. The cross-shaped scar over his heart was a bit compressed. "Oh, yeah… That one hurt."

 _Scars are hot stuff…_ "You're telling me..."

"That's a doozy," Alex commented. "How does a guy like you get one of _those?_ "

"Let's just say I've had a few heart problems in the past, actually had one recently. Sometimes it had to be taken out and put back in a few times..."

"That's wack..."

Zaac walked over to the window and stared back outside. Sam thought he might be waiting for rescue, that's something she would do. Clover sat back on the bed and practically snuggled with Zaac's armour. It had his smell and had some weight.

"So you won't tell us how you got stuck here, and the cold doesn't bother you because of your armour," Sam said with a little slowly. "But what about food?"

"I hibernated. I fed off the ice for water and rested in stasis for the last few years. I can't expect you to understand what I am."

"Try us."

Zaac waved his hand submissively. "No. Those questions are too personal."

"Really?" said Alex, "That just makes you more mysterious."

"Yeah," Clover chuckled, "Mysterious and hot!"

"Hmmm..." Zaac turned back around and rubbed his chin, brushing his light goatee. "Good comment. I'll keep that in mind… Please understand the questions you're asking me, Sam, are a little close to home. I mean this time yesterday I was basically… dead… and now you're quizzing me."

"Sorry," Sam shrugged. "We thought it could help our situation if we just knew each other a bit better."

Zaac smiled. "Apology accepted. Do what you have to, to pass the time. Just leave my personal affairs out of it." He walked away to the fridge.

Sam leant forward. "There goes our only chance to pass the time," she sighed.

"I am NOT going back to playing I spy," said Clover, getting up from the bed. She walked after Zaac after she left his armour at the bottom of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll use my womanly charm to get him to sing," Clover smiled back, "I like a challenge."

Zaac opened the fridge to reach for a bottled water on the door's rack. It was basic tap water, typical Umbrella using cheap water for their employees. How sad for them. When he closed the door and took a sip of water, Clover was there to his right.

Clover stepped forward and pressed her finger on Zaac's chest. "Say handsome… would you really want to keep secrets from us? We're practically besties now."

"Oh, she's good," Alex said to Sam. She nodded in response.

Zaac stared at Clover's heavenly blue eyes for some time, and she was quick to falter under his golden eyes. So strange. So unique. "Thanks for the attention Clover but I see what you're doing."

Clover blushed. "We're all friends here…" She rubbed her hand over Zaac's chest. "How about you express and open up a little bit and I'll tell you what, I'll let you take me out for dinner."

"I met a Scatterbrain once fifteen years ago, _she_ couldn't break me and neither can you."

"Scatter-what?"

"As much as I appreciate the womanly attention, Clover," Zaac chuckled, "I don't think dating plans would roll well with the wife, she can be… territorial. You wouldn't want to get on her bad side. I've seen it…"

"Wife?" she whimpered.

"And not to make it more awkward," he said while he scratched the back of his head, "I think my kids are around about your age. The age gap an' all just wouldn't work out."

"Ooooo, that's gotta hurt," Alex murmured.

"Did not see that coming."

Clover quickly shuffled back to the bed and sat next to Zaac's armour. Sam scooted to the corner, and Alex took her space. Clover's flirting nature was defeated, and Alex comforted her with her hand on the shoulders. "Better luck next time," she cooed.

"You're married? Kids and everything?" asked Sam. Clover groaned with her head in her hands. "You've been a busy man."

Zaac stopped drinking the water bottle he was on; he was on his third bottle now. He turned around and closed the fridge again. "Yeah." He showed the girls a gold ring on his left ring finger. "Haven't seen the wife or the kids since all of this happened. I hope she didn't remarry."

"You look young for your age."

"Don't remind me," Clover whined. She slumped her body over Zaac's armour. It offered some closure to her dampened morale of being not as good at flirting as she used to. She thought she still had it along with her looks. Her game was rusty, but now she realised she couldn't charm everyone with her looks anymore, it just wasn't that easy.

"I suppose I can tell you a little bit about me since Clover went out of her way in an attempt to… seduce me. Any of you girls smoke?"

Sam choked a little. "No," she made perfectly clear.

"Smoking's gross."

"Good for you. It's a dirty habit."

Zaac walked to the same window again to look outside. He just needed to have a cigarette but needed to summon one unnaturally since he left his cigarettes back on the B.S.A.A. plane. He flicked his wrist, and a something black materialised into his fingertips. A cigarette and an oil flip lighter. He took a single puff and folded his arms.

"That's better."

"Well? We still got time to kill."

"I don't much like sitting in silence," Clover mumbled. She lifted her head off Zaac's armour and sat up against the wall. It was uncomfortable resting on her broken arm.

"Calm down," Zaac said sharply. "This isn't easy for me to say. So I'll just start from the beginning..." Zaac inhaled another puff of smoke and exhaled it. It was definitely what he needed after the last few hours. He put his one arm over his back. "Back in 2009 my brother and I were on a mission in Africa to stop a worldwide catastrophe. This one terrorist we tried to eliminate got away but the ordeal was contained so we let that slide." He smoked and exhaled. After a pause, he continued, "On our way home the terrorist hijacked the plane and tried to kill us. I was actually counting on the arrival, so I set a trap… using my brother as bait. He was the prime target."

"Wow, way to think on your feet, Zaac," Sam smiled.

Zaac turned his head. "Thanks." He swivelled his body back around to the girls. "I prefer the hands-on approach to things, but this time I had to do the unusual to catch the psycho. After the trap, I got hurt badly and had to bail." He smoked and pointed to his armour. "That's how I got that huge hole in my armour. I was… impaled. The trap worked, however, but at a cost set me back nine years."

"What happened to the terrorist?"

"Hopefully he died in the destruction. I survived, barely, but you know… stuck here since then. A fair trade-off, I suppose..." Zaac smoked the last of his cigarette and rubbed it out on the wall behind him. The butt was discarded into the corner of the room. He sighed, heavily and brushed his chest. "A job well done is its own reward and ridding the world of that bastard made the nine-year setback almost worth it. Good plan, barely worked."

"Who was this madman anyway? We had quite a lot of them ourselves back in our junior days."

"Albert Wesker."

"I think Patryk had a WOOHP file on him," said Alex, sitting forward with a little frown. She looked at Sam. "Remember Sam? We were there, and he was going through Jerry's old files."

"The one in the sunglasses?"

"Yeah."

"That was a few days after he took over WOOHP," Sam replied. "It happened so fast though I only recalled that he was declared dead in 2009."

"Boy that made him happy, I remember he had quite a smile when he shuffled through a few of WOOHP's most wanted. Seeing this Albert dead was something that brightened his day. Spent the day shopping. How grand."

"Then my plan worked. It backfired on me, but his reign of terror is over."

Sam looked away from Alex's innocent face and over to Zaac's. She squinted. "Any relation?"

"He… was my father…"

"Wow. Daddy issues much?"

"Wait." Alex leant forward. "You killed your dad?"

"There was no other way," Zaac blurted. He turned his back on the girls and shook his head. They heard him sigh. "He… He deserved it. Tormented my friends and family for years. He only cared about himself at the time and was lost in his own arrogance."

Zaac turned around to see Sam and Alex listening to his story intensely, whereas Clover was drifting into sleep. She had the sling back on. He walked to the bottom of the bed and brushed her hair. Fatherly instinct kicked in. "You see," he continued, "I heard Wesker was planning to plague the world with a virus. If it succeeded, it would've wiped out billions. WOOHP and the B.S.A.A. was able to stop him in the end. Sure we had to suffer a few losses but it was necessary."

"I heard about that," Sam interrupted. "I saw it on the news before school; I remembered because my mother was almost crying one time during lunch. Watched the news all day."

"The stealth bomber that went out to contaminate the world was apprehended by B.S.A.A., but Wesker got away. Then I caught him in my trap. So he's dead and now I'm here. All's well that ends well."

"How does it feel knowing you killed your own father?"

Zaac smiled. "After the first three times he tried to kill me the fatherly love and care wore thin. I tried to show him the light and the error of his ways out of the respect I had for him, but he just didn't care. He would kill me in a heartbeat if he could, I feel like this was a long time coming. My only regret was not doing it earlier." He sighed. "Good people died because of him.

"Wow… Makes me take my dad for granted."

"All of this has a moral. Umbrella preys on the young, smart and gifted to mould into a means to an end. My father was all three, and since mother died, he lost his paternal emotions and joined them indefinitely."

"What happened to your mom?"

Zaac waved his hand, still smiling. Peaceful. "Dead. Let's leave it at that."

"Sure," Sam smiled, "Whatever you say."

Zaac gave Sam a thumb's up, but before he went to sit down on the bed, he suddenly whipped his head around, as if he heard something the girls didn't. He walked to the same window as earlier, only he was peeking through it and not simply standing there. It was getting weird with him pacing back to it.

"What's up with you, Zaac?"

"I swear I'm either hearing things or there's something out there..."

Alex shrugged. "I can't hear anything."

At this point, Zaac pressed his face against the glass window. "It might be the sounds of a helicopter's rotors I'm hearing." He held himself from the window and nodded."It's getting closer."

"Patryk..."

"He's here," Alex smiled, "Now we can go home."

The sounds of rotors outside got louder as the source got closer and closer. The girls could hear it now and got excited that their guardian was coming for them. Zaac seemed a bit anxious as a bright light shined through the windows outside. The girls got up from the bed and joined Zaac at the window, expecting a rescue any time soon. Only when the helicopter got closer, Zaac saw something strange on the hull and wings. Weapons. Lots of weapons.

"That's not a WOOHP helicopter..."

The helicopter moved a few meters further away and stayed still to aim a floodlight at the building and windows. The windows were tinted enough to neutralise the brightness completely. Zaac heard something metallic spinning up. A minigun…

"Get down!" Zaac roared.

Sam, Clover and Alex hit the deck behind Zaac, covering their heads for whatever reason. They trusted him as much as he trusted them. Bullets sprayed and ringed throughout the building. Starting from the right side, bullets destroyed the windows, ripped the bed apart and then made its way over to Zaac and the girls. Dust and debris kicked up as the wall behind them got peppered.

Zaac unsheathed Sally and stretched out his left arm, forming a red mist of sorts from his open palm. The bullets ricocheted and ripped apart anything they came into contact with, the girls were safe down low, but at this rate, Zaac's entire midsection would be torn to pieces. The mist grew very slowly, not covering much at all.

Zaac stood strong while the bullets sprayed over to him and came into contact, and when they did, the mist around his left palm absorbed the bullets as they passed. The mist grew as more bullets were absorbed by his strange ability. From the top of his head to his knees, he held the bullets in place. Suspended within the mist. Hundreds of live rounds were suspended in there.

The bullets tore the windows and the front wall a fresh hole that ran from one side to another. Zaac saw the pilot and the pilot saw him and the girls cowering behind him. The bullets ceased just after they tore through the fridge and computer; the pilot retreated a bit more for some extra range. Zaac closed his hand and let all the bullets he accumulated drop to his feet. They ringed loudly. Zaac stretched out his sword arm and challenged the pilot.

A missile was fired, and it was so fast you could blink, and it was gone from sight. The missile struck Sally after a swift movement from Zaac. It exploded, cracking the ceiling above and kicking up some dust that obscured the girls' vision. Another warhead followed the same path and was destroyed as it struck Sally.

The helicopter pilot caught on after the next three payloads failed to kill the targets. Then the copter tilted down and fired another missile at the support beams. Zaac counted six missiles. Six missiles all it took to shake up the building and slant it to forward. Two of the four metal beams below were disconnected from Mount Everest with the other two struggling to keep the building upright. One gave away and shifted the building to fall forward. The girls began to scream again while they all slid and fell from the building.

The girls still had their jetpacks on and used them as soon as the floor they were sliding off disappeared from under them. Clover and Sam scattered and flew straight up to the left and to the right, soaring over the helicopter. Alex flew down to grab Zaac; she wrapped her arms under and over each of his and pulled straight up and behind the helicopter. The pilot couldn't keep track of all the moving targets. And pulled up hard for some extra altitude.

With a small floodlight shining brightly at Clover, the pilot targeted her first. She held her broken arm and was seen as a crutch, but that didn't slow down her flying speed. When the pilot's minigun started to spin Clover immediately darted to her right at full speed to avoid the spray. The large rounds growled and echoed in the air like constant thunder. Clover flew circles the pilot and avoided the bullets admirably but with some difficulty. The girls were putting on more strain on their jetpacks, Sam and Clover were flying quicker to avoid being shredded by the minigun and Alex had to put up with Zaac's extra weight.

There were still some gadgets that never went out of style or practical usage. Sam had her laser lipstick tucked inside her jacket pocket. She needed to get the pilot's attention somehow to harass him with their superior numbers and speed, but she couldn't just take potshots at the helicopter with her handgun. Talk about shooting a bear with a BB gun.

Sam flew to the helicopter's tail boom and wrapped her strongest arm around it. Clover was struggling to keep herself out of the pilot's sights with the terror-inducing sound of the minigun stressing her out and slowing her reaction time. Sam uses her laser lipstick to sever the tall rear rotor from the tail boom. The helicopter was armoured, but it never had the armour to resist a laser lipstick.

The helicopter's weight pulled back and started to lose altitude with the minigun spraying madly into the air above. Clover ceased moving to catch her breath and to watch the helicopter plummet down. The pilot tried to keep himself in the air but rammed the cockpit and the rear into Everest from the constant twisting and turning. The loss of the rear rotor was hell for the pilot. The helicopter groaned, jutting far off course and in the confusion the pilot fired off two rapid missiles that zipped between Sam and Clover. A distant explosion on the rocky mountains was audible behind them.

Alex descended into view with Zaac in her arms. They gathered above the struggling helicopter. Zaac had his large revolver equipped and ready to fire. "These guys are really getting on my nerves," Sam groaned.

"Flying would be easier if my arm wasn't broken."

"He's coming back up!"

The pilot pulled back on the full throttle to ascend straight upwards, nose heavy. The helicopter was tilted heavily on its side and flew up to meet the girls and Zaac to open fire. Zaac pulled out his revolver and fired twice before the pilot revved up his helicopter's minigun. Something exploded in a glorious display of red gore from the cockpit, and then the helicopter turned upside down and began to drop.

The helicopter collided with the mountain a few times, hitting it hard and shredding the aircraft to scrap metal. It crashed and burned in the distance below them. It was satisfying to watch. The girls took a well-earned breather and joined back up. They considered staying near the building they waited in, but in the confusion with the helicopter, the building they once rested in has since plummeted down far below them. Now was a time to use the distress button on the girls' compowder for Patryk to locate them, or to make sure they were ALL on.

With nowhere to go, they grouped up at the crevice where Zaac's plane rested. It provided adequate shelter even in spite of it only being a quarter of the plane it used to be, but it kept them out of the cold. Though it was sat on the left side, it wasn't too hard to get comfortable.

Zaac wasn't wearing armour over his torso. That went down with the rest of the building; he was left bare. He stood over the girls and covered them with the thermal bed quilt he inexplicably took without them knowing. They sat in the corner with each other in their arms. Zaac kept watch.

Zaac tucked the girls with the blanket. "I guess we'll bunk here for the night if we have to." He climbed over the pilot seats behind him to sit down. "Since my plane's leftovers were fine sitting here for the last decade, I guess it will be suitable for a single night."

"I wish we didn't have a draft behind us," Alex sighed. She hinted to the smashed windows to the girls' right. They were non-existent and summoned the occasional draft of cold air from the ice outside. The quilt covered them well, but the cold air shivering down their spine made it hard to relax and fall asleep. "Aren't you cold Zaac?"

"Are you really saying that to a guy who spent nine years in subzero temperature?" Zaac chuckled.

"Pat should locate our distress call soon, they're all on so hopefully we won't be here long. Shame we can't use our jetpacks anymore. We coulda flew home by now."

"I was never a fan on Jerry's jetpacks back in the day."

"How do you know Jerry?"

Zaac relaxed his legs and sat forward. He chewed his bottom lip. "WOOHP hired me back in 2000 when I was freelance; I was asked to work along with Patryk and Mozz. We were Jerry's finest team at the time. This one mission in my third year… I didn't like the mission details, so I refused to participate and quit before it started. I walked out on my new career because he wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Wow, and I thought we had it tough." Clover shrugged. "Didn't think walking out was an option."

Zaac smiled. "There you have it. WOOHP and I don't get along because of that little feud with Jerry years ago."

"Wait, it turned into a _feud_?"

"That's the only way it can be put. I refused to participate due to personal health and… religious reasons and Jerry wouldn't take no for an answer. Pat, bless him, tried to convince me to stay, but there was nothing to be said to keep me in line. It escalated into a feud because I may have accidentally attacked Jerry and Patryk on my way out."

Sam huffed and brushed her long hair back with some frustration. She wasn't enjoying the dark turn to Zaac's story. "How could that happen?"

Zaac lost his smile. "They both got in my way and I got bored of waiting. They were both obstacles, so I just made an exit for myself and broke out. Collateral damage was not my problem. My time is precious, and they were wasting it asking me to participate in a mission I couldn't do."

"Was that all it took for you to leave? Damn..."

"Unlike the two of them, I had a family to feed and I refuse to have WOOHP 'reprogramme' me. The last thing I need is a behavioural modification chip in my head. _That's_ why I left. _That's_ why it turned into a feud. I was disobedient and then the old man whipped out a chip with my name on it."

Clover reminisced on that day at the start of their career. The one day where they were fugitives… "Oh, boy, that makes me uncomfortable."

"Why couldn't you talk it out? You're strong. Smart. Not to mention flexible." Zaac was blushing with Alex's flattering comments. "You probably eat danger for breakfast."

"I'm a family man, I only want a more honest life. No more zombies. No more monsters. No more terrorism. Just to rest in peace. That's my flaw..." Zaac perked up and got his smile back on an otherwise difficult subject.

"On my final day in 2002," he continued, "I was to lead Pat and Mozz to investigate this ex-drug lord in South America who had ties with Umbrella. When I heard there was this... virus involved with the operation, I quit. I didn't want to but I did. One mention of that chip and I broke out. Then that infernal old man went and hired my brother in my place without my consent…. Hated them both ever since."

"What about Mozz? How do you feel about him?"

"I have no beef with him..."

"It's a real shame you left. WOOHP is fantastic." Alex sank into the thermal blanket some more. "I can still remember all the highlights."

Clover looked at Alex. "Yeah? Like what?"

"Our promotion for one thing. And the time we first met."

"Hard to believe three besties like us met by Jerry's hand. Almost like we were separated at birth."

Alex chuckled. "Those are the best ones I can remember."

Zaac frowned. "Hmmm… Times change for all of us. Jerry just hired me when he heard of my rap sheet, and that was it. I probably got the short end of the stick, but that's no excuse to put me or my brother in that situation."

"Sounds like your employment lacked excitement. Have you ever been woohped?"

"What the hell's that?"

Sam looked at Clover and nodded. "Guess that's another thing we took for granted."

Clover wriggled her hand like she was tipping some scales. "Ehhhh… Maybe. This is a nice bit of R&R, don't get me wrong, but what time is it?"

"Nearly five-thirty in the morning," said Zaac without even looking for a watch or a clock.

"Wonderful. With all adrenaline we stirred up earlier, I don't think we'll ever get to sleep."

A draught of cold air brushed up Alex's spine, and she instantly shuddered. "Especially with this cold." She Sam and Clover wriggled and shuffled their bodies to get some friction going. They felt warmer. "Much better."

"You three try to stay warm; I'll go topside and keep an eye out for Pat."

Zaac looked up out of the plane's wreckage with a little sigh. He had quite a bit to climb to reach the surface; little icy ledges left and right and the wall here and there. The ice was cold to the touch and had some sharpness behind it. With his bare hands and chest, he started to scale and pull his weight up out of the wreck.

Climbing the narrow crevice wasn't easy, it was like a mountain on all sides. Only colder and sharper. One ledge he held onto crumbled under his strongest grasp, a quick adjustment of his left hand kept him from falling. His palm bled down his arm from the strain under his weight.

Zaac threw his body to the opposite side and latched onto the ice with a better grip with his hands and feet. Then he leapt back again to the other side at a higher angle. He was a few meters from the surface now, only two or three arm lengths to go. Another blanket that covered the crevice was so close. He reached out for the red blanket, and as he was about to grasp it, it was ripped away from the outside. A man in a black suit and tie stood over the crevice with a Makarov handgun raised to Zaac's face. The flashlight attached shined in his eyes.

The man was handsome. Late thirties, short black hair and neatly shaved face. He put away his handgun and smiled, reaching out to Zaac. When he squatted, he was even more handsome. "Ебена мать! I couldn't believe it if I saw you with my own eyes, Zaac. You really _are_ alive!" he said in a lush Russian accent, soft and sweet like velvet.

"Patryk?"

"You're a sight for sore eyes, my comrade." Patryk took Zaac's hand and pulled him out of the crevice. "There any young girls down there?" he smiled. "A blonde, a brunette, a redhead perhaps?"

"Sam, Clover and Alex?" Zaac leant a little with his hand on his hip. "WOOHP spies by any chance?"

"That's right. My favourite superspies."

Zaac folded his arms, unimpressed. "Distress signal brought you here?"

"Hard to miss three blaring alarms."

Zaac looked over Patryk's shoulder. He was alone under the light from the crack of dawn. A jet, however, seemingly levitated in mid-air some distance above Patryk. It was jet black and didn't make a sound. It was a wide fixed-wing helicopter used for personnel transport, one that could change into a finer jet at the flip of a switch. Interchangeable. Zaac didn't know the name of the model, must be a new series of aircraft W.O.O.H.P. made while he was deceased. No weapons were on it.

"The girls are in this crevice. I kept them out of the cold best I could."

"And for that, I personally thank you, as guardian of WOOHP. Did I miss anything special?"

"A Neo-Umbrella helicopter tried to take us out, trashed the building, but we're fine. We were able to kill the assailant and the one who shot the girls down."

Patryk chuckled. "I was wondering where the building was." He noticed Zaac's bare chest with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't you cold."

Zaac shrugged. "I've been out here for a _long_ time Pat..."

"So the response to being surrounded by beautiful young women was to take your shirt off? My my, your womanising ways are just-"

Zaac snorted. "Shut up Pat… I mean it."

Patryk took out his wallet and flipped it open. It was more phone than a wallet, the monitor shown another man his age only with darker skin and thicker hair. Iranian and not Russian. "Mozzie, bring down a rope ladder for our old friend."

"Mozz?"

"Zaac? He really is alive! Who knew?" Mozz looked off screen to press a few buttons. A rope ladder flew out of the bottom of the jet and uncoiled at Zaac's feet.

"Make yourself a home. I'll go get the girls, and put a shirt on or something. You're kinda making me… Self-conscious."

"Sure Pat," Zaac frowned. He took hold of the thick ladder and started to climb.

"Zaac!" Patryk called. Zaac didn't look him in the eye; he just stopped climbing to hear him. "I'm glad you're alive! Things really aren't the same without you."

Zaac turned around and gave Patryk the middle finger; then he continued to climb. Patryk laughed it off but he was serious, Zaac threw away a career because of people like that Russian dog. He looked down infrequently and saw Pat using his bungee belt to lower himself into the crevice and out of sight. Gadgets sure had their uses, even if they were gimmicky. Zaac preferred lethal weapons.

The jet was spacious inside. The cockpit had no door; there were two couches behind him on the left and right with some overhead and lower compartments. Probably used for supplying gadgets of sorts. Mozz flipped on autopilot and made his way to Zaac to shake his hand.

"It's good to see you, my friend."

"Mozz."

Mozz lets go of Zaac's hand and adjusted his glasses. "I was honestly surprised when Patryk called me this late to tell me the girls were in danger." He folded his arms. "Never mentioned _you_ were tagging along."

Zaac smiled. "It's been a while Mozz. It's nice to have the gang back together, shame Pat's here too."

"Don't you regret it Zaac? Leaving WOOHP for freelance? The missions? The gadgets? The women? Everything we been through…? Jerry?"

Zaac sighed. "Now and then…" _Time to be dead serious here..._ "The excitement sure as hell was extraordinary, but I'm just not a fan of espionage anymore; I prefer the hands-on approach to things… To protect and serve, not to hide and spy. The perks… they were great at the time."

"Could've made your point without… hurting Jerry. He is seventy-three you know."

"What can I say?" Zaac shrugged. Jerry threatened me by trying to wipe my memory and Patryk got in my way. I'm glad you didn't. I have no quarrel with you."

"After everything we all been through you still _barely_ tolerate WOOHP? Yet you like me..."

"I owe all three of you a favour for what you done for me," Zaac folded his arms, "but Pat and Jerry sullied that the moment I heard about Alexander. I admit after some time I could cool off, Jerry isn't a bad man but… Alex… He never recovered..."

Mozz frowned. "That was a horrible mission… I'm sorry what happened to him."

"I will always appreciate WOOHP.'s help when it comes to terrorism, even so, when it comes to Neo-Umbrella. Hell, I needed a job to support my family and they called _me_. I will never forgive those two for those poor choices they made, at least we can all be glad that Wesker's dead."

"Yeah… good job on that!" Mozz smiled, genuinely. "I trust it was hard for you… I'm sorry..."

"My only regret was letting him get away in Africa; it was a real mess after the mission. The nine-year seclusion was the worst part. Missing the family and all that."

Mozz lightly punched Zaac's shoulder with admiration and stepped into the cockpit. "You shouldn't worry about that; we'll get back to Beverly soon." He sat down in the copilot chair and adjusted his glasses again to focus on the monitor in front of him better. "Wesker had to be put down for the sake of mankind everywhere..."

"As much as it pains me to say it, I never got to properly thank Jerry for his help in tracking Wesker the last few times. It's always welcome to face that bastard again and try to restrain him. Only this was his last chance."

"Least the death toll wasn't too high. Necessary losses, unfortunately."

"I wish the price weren't that terrible on me..." Zaac sighed. He sat down on the couch behind him. It was pink, and he noticed it in the corner of his eye. "Real men wear pink. Right?"

"Nothing but."

"Sacrifice a few to save a few more. In that case, it was a few billion back then."

Mozz turned around in his chair. It was able to rotate, that was a nice touch. "I never got to say this to you, Zaac. I'm truly sorry about Annette; she was a remarkable woman."

Zaac had a tear in his eye. Annette Parker was his best student and apprentice, cut down before her prime. Died young before she could bloom in S.T.A.R.S.. It was her dream to join. She died a member. "I know… I'll make Neo-Umbrella pay for what they did to her. The teacher should _never_ have to kill the student."

"We get all the winners, don't we?"

"What happened to Tricell after the incident?"

"Bankrupt. Neo-Umbrella used them as a scapegoat and went into hiding."

"Has there been any other incidents while I was gone?"

Mozz leant back in his chair, made a finger pyramid and thought decisively. "A few here and there… The biggest one was… a distant relative of yours... Tried to use Uroboros to cause another biohazard in 2011… Let's see here..." He rubbed his chin. "Hmm..."

"Who was the perpetrator?"

"Wesker's sister… Alexandria."

Zaac wasn't sure how to think; he knew all about Project W and the Wesker Children in 2006. Alex was a bit older than Albert and also, like him, a survivor of the project. "I never knew my aunts and uncles, but I know enough about them and Project W..."

"Do you?"

"It was why Spencer invited me to his mansion, to tie up loose ends lingering around the project. Guess it's finally over now, with Alex's death 'n' all. Tragic… The first and _last_ time I've ever met her was back in 2006, before Spencer…"

Mozz flared his eyebrows. "Well, in any case, Alex Wesker was killed by Claire in 2011."

"Oh no..." Zaac frowned. "That's a shame… The aunt I barely knew, killed by my wife… Shit."

"She was just as ambitious and maniacal as Wesker was. Good people died because of her."

Zaac sighed. "Great, now it's up to me and my brothers to make amends for our family's misdeeds. Anything else?"

"In 2013 there were these bioterrorist attacks in China and the United States. President Benford was killed in the conflict, and the world was at risk. WOOHP and the B.S.A.A. were able to cure the infected population after the ordeal. It was a team effort, with the help from the National Security and the Secret Service."

"Anyone I should know about?"

"One you should be aware of is a Mr Jake Muller… He's Albert Wesker's son..."

Zaac didn't respond and sat forward until he found his voice. "Junior's?" Mozz nodded. His eyes rolled down, and he seemed disappointed. "I… honestly had no idea… I suppose it was _after_ mother passed and he was… Let's not talk about it. Must've been in the early nineties when he went away for the weekends…"

"It needed to be said, you missed out on a lot of things."

"Thank you for bringing me up to speed with all this… A bit close to home but it's the truth. Thanks."


	5. Back in Beverly

Five minutes later Patryk joined Zaac on the deck with Sam Clover and Alex from the rope ladder. Clover was looking healthier on account of her broken arm when she, Sam and Alex occupied the couch next to Zaac. Like his, theirs had a seatbelt of sorts. He didn't fasten his up. Didn't need it, so he laid down, and stretched his legs. The plain shirt he had one wasn't very warm or the right size. It'll do...

He figured he deserved a little rest after everything he been through the last few times, even before he got stuck on Mount Everest, he was in Africa dealing with Uroboros rejects trying to kill him. Then there was the face-off with his father. If anyone didn't want him to lie down, he had a saying ready. _Give me a break, I've been frozen for nine years._ That was his trump card. Zaac closed his eyes. He was finally resting until…

"Don't look now everyone!" Patryk yelled, "We got a stalker in our airspace!"

"I think it might be Neo-Umbrella, Patryk," Mozz murmured. On the radar in their cockpit, the green area map swept and disclosed another aircraft a few hundred meters behind them. On their level and closing in fast.

"This far out?! Чертовски змеиные ублюдки! They really are persistent!" Patryk pulled back on the wheel and gained some more altitude and shoot straight up. The icons to fasten seatbelts popped up in the back and the girls prepared to fix themselves in. Zaac, instead of putting on his seatbelt, went to the cockpit and secured himself between Patryk and Mozz.

"You two should know better by now."

The green blip was getting a little too close for comfort and was almost right behind their helicopter. "He's right behind us!" Mozz roared.

"I don't think so..." Patryk said slowly, and calmly. "He's passing over us."

"What kind of helicopter does-"

A loud mechanical roar outside tore at everyone's eardrums and got ever so closer as the aircraft above followed. A spray of bullets tore at the helicopter's hull and chewed up the rotors outside, clipping one of them off. The windows of the cockpit was peppered with gunfire as the aircraft passed over and sped past them like a bat out of hell, at speed no helicopter could match.

The helicopter turned left, off-course slightly before returning to normal. From the change of balance and footing, Zaac regained his posture and stood back between Patryk and Mozz. "It's a fucking fighter jet!" he exclaimed.

"We'll be sitting ducks if we don't do something," Mozz growled.

"Pat, punch that shit!"

Patryk nodded and pressed the red button to interchange the helicopter to a jet. In less than a second, the folded wings sprung out, and the rotors collapsed into the craft and then they were able to move with less dexterity but more speed. He pulled back on a lever to his right, and they accelerated to the max and moved as quickly as their assailant did. Only he or she turned back around to face them to fire again.

"They're going for a bombing run!"

"Pat, pull up!" Mozz cried.

"Not just yet..." Patryk's fingers were dancing over the steering wheel, anticipating the assailant's next move. At a hundred yards or more, a missile was fired at them. He tightened his grip, and ZAAC'S hand came to his and pulled his hand that pulled the wheel back with a quick jerk.

Their jet flew high into the air at a ridiculous speed, leaving the missile to fly past them out of danger, the assailant shot off out of their radar's range. Zaac used Patryk's hand to turn the jet on its left side and upside down to follow back the way they flew up. "I'm capable of navigating on my own Zaac," Patryk complained. Zaac twisted his hand to get back on course on the right side up.

Zaac lets go of Patryk's hand. "I know, but I'm just sick and tired of being shot down out of the sky all the damn time!"

Mozz leant forward to see the radar better. It was clear. He flipped a switch above his head and relaxed a bit in his chair. "The jet's gone."

"It's Neo-Umbrella; they'll be back." Their jet was well on the way towards Los Angeles now, far above the clouds and surrounded by the dark night.

The radar picked up the jet again, this time they weren't a few hundred meters behind. They were preparing to open fire again as they lined up with theirs. "We aren't suited for a dogfight like this," Patryk complained. He pulled back hard and jerked to his left quickly to bring it all back around to Everest. "We can't just drag this out to the cities below; we need to get rid of this fucker here and now!"

The jet pursuing them started to fire its automatic weapon on their rear. The bullets were a high calibre type that able to chew up the jet's rear, however unable to pierce the hull. Patryk twisted the jet to the left side and pulled up some more. Patryk was sweating badly since he couldn't shake the assailant off.

"This guy is getting on my nerves," Patryk groaned. "Can't shake him off and we don't have weapons to fight him!"

"I'm a weapon! I just need to get out there. Do you have any jetpacks in here?"

"Should be one in the back." Patryk turned his head to Zaac. "You're not thinking about going out there are you?" An explosion rocked the jet further on its side. He flicked some switches and focused back on his flying. "Dang it, can't lose focus..."

Patryk pulled hard to the right and pressed back on down. Zaac felt like he was a human lotto ball, rocking about inside the cockpit with his old partner's flying skills. He was getting sick of the constant defence.

"I have better chances of surviving outside than in here." Zaac pulled himself back up on his feet and stepped into the back where the girls were looking a bit skittish. It wasn't nice seeing capable girls so timid.

"Don't worry, girls, this is just how we work."

Sam smiled but it wasn't convincing. "I can definitely see you three working together now."

"Yeah, to think that will be us in a few months… Flying around, shooting baddies…"

Zaac smiled at Clover. "Pat, where are the jetpacks?" he called. Patryk didn't respond; he was busy. Zaac turned around. "Pat!"

Sam pointed to the overhead lockers above on her left side. "They should be over there."

Zaac opened the compartment and rifled around inside. And what a surprise it was, completely empty. He rushed to the one on the opposite side and found what he wanted. Three jetpacks. Two were just backpacks with space inside, but one was a proper jetpack with plenty of fuel to spare. It wasn't his type when he put it on.

"This is so not my style."

Alex found Zaac wearing a heart-shaped jetpack amusing; it was so feminine compared to his tough, manly figure. "It's not that bad..."

"What are you planning, Zaac?"

Zaac pressed a switch on the right side that opened the floor where they entered earlier. Fresh cold air sucked in and had a slight depressurizing effect. "I'm gonna get rid of this fucker! You girls stay calm and be ready for anything."

"What do you mean by that?" Their jet pulled up quickly; as an explosion went off in the distance. They were soaring past Mount Everest away from civilisation and far in the opposite direction.

Clover looked away from Alex. "Not like there's anything else we can do. Can't exactly outplay a jet."

"You can't but _I_ can."

"Be careful out there."

Zaac stepped out of the jet and then it shot out of sight with the assailant tailgating closely behind them. It was sunny outside now, just clear skies and fresh air. Clear enough to see they were almost at the peak of Everest. Zaac couldn't enjoy the sights above the clouds for too long and started up his jetpack and his offensive to chase their stalker.

Zaac doesn't like relying too much on jetpacks, but the speed did help him get close to the jet chasing Pat. The assailant pulled a hard left away from Patryk's jet suddenly out of nowhere. Patryk flew off to the right, seeming to be safe from the pursuit. Zaac stopped to find the jet chasing them gone from sight.

With heightened hearing, Zaac overhears something shoot off to his left; he twisted and made contact with a missile that was far too close to detonating. Zaac chopped the missile away with his open palm, sending it far off course. With the powers he harnesses, one of them was to see things at a slower rate than others do, however, that put too much strain on his mind. The missile exploded somewhere below him.

The assailant sprayed of his automatic weapon at Zaac, bullets skimmed here and there past him; he was too small and fast to hit. The sheer amount of lead spilling out gave Zaac's survival chance a low rate; he had to pull out and quickly. So naturally, in danger, he flew away from the jet and flew straight up. He was the target, not Pat or the girls...

Bullets still sped past his head, and the terrifying sound was getting annoying. Zaac whipped his hand and Sally materialised into his hand within a puff of shadows. He turned around to try and intercept some of the gunfire, needing to outlast the enemy and pull out a sneak attack. He outstretched his left arm and formed another red mist from his palm.

He could throw all the bullets he caught into the mist back at the attacker, but that would leave him open for damage; he didn't underestimate the jet's accuracy for a second as it gradually got better. The red mist got bigger and bigger until a missile shot off during the spray. It was prematurely detonated as Zaac brought Sally up to catch it.

He could heave all the bullets he caught back at the attacker, but the same problem was there as the jet was still firing. Neo-Umbrella really wanted to kill him; it showed because they were leaving the usual airspace and entering the very lower levels of actual space. They were a few minutes away from leaving the Earth's atmosphere.

Zaac let all the bullets go and went full speed straight up and rivalled the jet regarding speed. Cutting through clouds like butter, they were going the way of a space shuttle; it was amazing how committed the jet pilot was to kill Zaac. He was losing sight of everything down below; the jet was almost a speck in the distance, so he slowed down to hatch a plan.

So many powers to use at his disposal, so little time. The jet came into view… Zaac sheathed Sally and flew back down at a slower speed but still matched the jet's and flew right at it as Superman would. Bullets began to sputter.

A quick wave of his arm over his head and Zaac disappeared into thin air just before the bullets made contact, leaving the pilot confused. Zaac reappeared some distance below the jet, and he instantly flew back up at full speed as his body solidified. The pilots couldn't understand what he just witnessed and acted accordingly.

The jet took a sharp right and turned back around; only Zaac was quicker and nimble, he knew the pilots' weakness and exploited it. They couldn't shoot a target directly above them. Zaac was able to identify the pilots. They were humans in flight suits, employed by Neo-Umbrella. They could pass off as twins…

They tried desperately to shake Zaac off, flying upside down and taking sharp turns wouldn't cut it. What did work in their favour was a smoky distraction. Thick grey smoke erupted around the rear and threw Zaac's focus off, he lost his sight and ceased. The smoke was thick; he had to fly out of it and went right down a few hundred feet to relocate his target. Gone…

A missile flew at Zaac again, whizzing too fast for anyone to comprehend. He reacted quickly and swatted it away with his hand. It exploded in the distance. He can see too many things at the smallest fraction of a second until his head began to ache. Overdid it. Waved his arm over his head in a flourish as if he had an invisible cape.

The jet followed through where Zaac was a second ago, they lost him, and he was off their radar. They were confused again. Zaac reformed just behind the air break and fixed himself over the engine. He knew jets too much to let one commandeered by grunts get the better of him. Zaac crawled over the cockpit window and knocked on it to get the pilots' attention.

They pulled out their handguns, and when they did Zaac punched through the glass and tugged on the rear pilot's shoulder. He was promptly pulled out and discarded. Pulled a hell of a Wilhelm scream. He commandeered the seat the first guy was using and punched through the seat in front of him, and the other guy sat in it, killing him. A kill worthy of Wesker.

Zaac opened the window and let the previous pilot out and took control of the steering and flying. The jet was very similar to the ones seen during the time on Rockfort Island. Made sense since this is Neo-Umbrella he was talking about.

The altitude was a bit too high. Zaac brought her down and decided it was time to regroup with Pat and the girls. Felt like this whole escapade was dragged on longer than it should, but hey, Zaac loved the adrenaline of a good chase. As long as no one too important gets hurt.

It was 07:13 am in the late morning when Zaac found W.O.O.H.P. Headquarters in Beverly Hills. It was a nice thing to see after all this time away, wondering what his life would've been like if he stayed in their employment back in 2002. The sight of seeing his town below him was wonderful under the sun's glare.

He radioed Patryk ahead of time, so he doesn't try and shoot him down since he's in a jet owned by their enemy. He was glad to hear his friend survived and the girls got home safe and ready for school. Patryk and Mozz were waiting for him on the helipad on the top of the building. Zaac set the jet down and got out. They seemed far too tired to be at work this early, but that was their problem. Talk about some nasty baggage.

They wore some nice dark grey suits, Zaac was jealous they have so many suits available. Zaac's not nearly as rich as Patryk was. They shook hands. "Nice to see you in one piece, comrade," Patryk smiled with a small nod. "How did you get rid of the stalker?"

"The prick was was after me this entire time, not you or the girls. Just a matter of coincidence..."

"Well, if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have lost him and got home safe. If something was to happen to them..." Patryk faltered. "I couldn't live with myself if they got hurt, they're my best spies, and I promised Jerry I would protect them with my life."

"They are… certainly unique and… capable. You did a good job with all that flying."

Patryk smiled and shrugged. "It was mostly good timing and just general… calculation. Inside I was a nervous wreck."

"Well, you did better than I would. I flew out this bastard up as high as I could before I ambushed them and… _liberated_ them from their jet." Zaac took off his jetpack and handed it to Patryk. Mozz took it off his hands. "After all that I guess I should give you their jet as a keepsake since I was the one that caused this mess in the first place. Might sell well."

"I'll scrap it for parts; I have too many jets, to be honest. Although, regarding you being Neo-Umbrella's prime target, it was true. I looked into this exclusion zone, and things popped up… It was a perimeter they set up to keep an eye out over your resting place. They had constant surveillance over the airspace where you went down in 2009."

"Wow… I'm so special. They couldn't forget about me for a single day."

"Makes sense," Mozz added. "He's at the top of Neo-Umbrella's VIP list along with some others from Verkraft."

Patryk looked to Mozz and still smiled, even though the information wasn't positive. "Makes you appreciate being in the middle of the list, doesn't it?" He folded his arms and addressed Zaac again. "We're not very high on their priorities yet. They have more serious threats than us."

"Have you heard anything from Verkraft while I was gone?"

"No… Just the usual, mystery employer an' all that." Patryk sighed a little to deflate his ego. "They've been hiding for a while now, and that puts you and the B.S.A.A. in danger. Then WOOHP will be next."

"That's not good..." Zaac slyly stepped away from Patryk and Mozz and stopped at the very edge, looking down at the city. It was beautiful being nearly a hundred floors high up. Cars speeding past, people walking around like ants, buildings waiting for excitement from the people. "Guess now's a good time to bring back S.T.A.R.S. and shed some light on all this terror."

Patryk cleared his throat and stepped behind Zaac "S.T.A.R.S. isn't around anymore. Ended in 2010 due to finances."

"I expected that. I shouldn't have had the licences passed on to Chris and Claire; I knew it was too much for them to handle, but they were my next of kin. The L.A.P.D. would just sell everything I did for the force. I guess I can just revive them again just like the first time and do what I can."

"I would like that. It would be nice having an ally in the mix, one that _truly_ knows Neo-Umbrella's capabilities."

"It will be a team effort to put them out of commission once and for all."

Patryk joined Zaac at the ledge. His hands were behind his back. "That will be a problem for tomorrow. For now, I think you should go home, get some sleep and do something about S.T.A.R.S. in the morning. You missed a lot since you died. New people and new mysteries."

"To think of the excuses I got to come up with to patch things with the friends and family. Oh well… I don't think the usual 'I'm a superhuman; I can survive things others can not' excuse will work this time. I'll sure as hell play it out as long as I can."

"I figured as much. Being born from the Prototype virus could give an unborn person some… inhuman perks. You're a prime example. Ironic… You're technically a B.O.W."

"Only difference is I'm not used as a mindless weapon, nor that I act as one in the name of tyranny. I think. I act. I live. I have a life and a family… That makes me human… even though I'm just superior one."

Patryk mumbled a bit in his closed hand. "I think that excuse would work with the wife. Personally speaking. The unknown complications in something not many people understand would leave them open to accept what happened… Like, for example, the nine-year death."

"I would prefer to call that an accident. I was frozen so… it was kinda against my will." Zaac chuckled morbidly, "There's nothing much to it than that." His humour faded, still, he smiled. "Only if it wasn't for three young girls from WOOHP, it would've been my resting place."

"I heard Alex was the one who found you."

"I'm glad she did. I owe her a favour."

"After all this exposition, it doesn't sound like a bad excuse." Patryk looked at Zaac. "Works for me and Mozz. What makes Claire any different?"

"It's not like I'm married or sleeping with you two now is it?"

"Is that an invitation?" Mozz chuckled behind them.

Patryk burst out in laughter, so hysterical he had to hold himself up from collapsing onto the floor. Used Zaac's shoulder as a crutch. His breath was fading. Zaac couldn't resist a little snicker. His head dipped down, and he piratically cackled but stayed up straight. Patryk's laughter was contagious.

"On a serious note, however," Zaac forced himself to say clearly, "you both cannot be compared to my wife's feelings with me being gone for all this time."

"You're right." Patryk straightened up with his back to Zaac. He turned back around with his hands to his sides. "Freezing up there was just an accident. The trap was… a necessary one at that."

"A necessary one to kill Wesker. I think she _might_ just be a little glad. Me being back after nine years and not never is a good bonus for her and the kids."

"Nothing can possibly go wrong…"

"I dunno about that. Life, uh, finds a way."

Patryk sighed again. "There are some dark times coming, Zaac… We need to do what we do best and fight for the people. To have you on our side might be all we need."

"Believe me, Pat, I won't rest until Neo-Umbrella is totally dunzo. It's only a matter of time we pick off their executives, leaders and their directors. Once they're gone, Romanov will fold… We just need to outlast our enemies…"

"Good to have you back, Zaac."

"Don't push it, Pat."


End file.
